A Possibility
by A Reviewing Reader
Summary: The Osirian: the protector of the Paragon, of the Chosen One, of me. The Paragon: the one to bring balance to the world, the first Chosen One, her. Whenever we talk, it seems like we get along like we've known each other for ages, though we've barely spoken one word to each other. Are we destined to be together? It doesn't feel right, but then again, it doesn't feel wrong...
1. Chapter 1

Yes, you are correct. I _am_ starting a new multi-chap at the worst possible time! So expect many delays with updating because of a cramped schedule involving dance, school, and sleep that never allows me the time or energy to write!

Fabina fans, don't worry, I haven't switched sides. How could I with the dozens of Fabina stories that I've favorited and the ten I've written myself? No, I just had a plot bunny roaming around, and it was nagging at my brain to write it.

Strange how I always seem to start off with Nina's POV in my multichaps. Even though I've only written two . . .

* * *

~Nina's POV~

Summer of dreams . . . Summer of wishes . . . Summer of hopes . . . Summer of love . . .

The possible song titles ring through my mind as I enter my bedroom, seeing my notebook perched on my colorful quilt, just as I had left it only a few moments ago.

I finish the Special K, chocolate granola bar in my hand, crumbling the wrapper in my hand and tossing it into the waste basket that sits beside my desk. The wrapper slowly unfurls and lands five feet away from the basket. I groan in frustration, but jump nearly three feet in the air when I hear a voice sarcastically say, "Nice shot, Nina."

I swivel around to face Patricia Williamson, in all her attitude and glory, smirking at me, probably because of my terrible aim.

"Thanks, Patricia," I reply in a sardonic tone. As I grab the wrapper and drop it in the trash can, I notice Patricia bending over the notebook on my bed, reading everything on the page that I have stupidly left open.

"Don't look at that!" I say, rushing over to cover my work from her curious eyes.

"What? All you have done here are a few names, like 'Summer of hopes,' Summer of love' . . ." I see her eyes scanning the words, and she laughs out loud. "What _is_ this?"

"It's nothing!" I try to grab for the notebook, but she puts it out of my reach, above her head as she continues to read off the words on the page.

"'You're the key to my heart, the love of my life. The one who catches me when I fall'? What, are you starting to write poetry, Nina?" she snickers.* I scramble to grab for the notebook, but to no avail: she has longer arms than me, so even though I'm at the same shoulder-level as her, the notebook is still out of my reach.

"Give it to me!" I cry in exasperation.

"No, 'please'?" Patricia teases.

"_Please_ give it to me, Patricia," I say through clenched teeth. She laughs again, and is about to say something when she is interrupted by Gran coming into the room.

"Nina, dear. Your friends are waiting downstairs for y-" She looks at us, both grappling for my notebook. "What is going on here?"

Patricia opens her mouth to reply, and I snatch the notebook away from her when she is distracted. "Ha!" I yell in triumph.

"Again, I repeat, what is going on here?" Gran says sternly.

"I read some of Nina's diary or something . . ." Patricia says simply. "Sorry."

Gran raises an eyebrow in question at me, and I shrug, not sure what else to say. Gran shakes her head at us, and then says, "Your friends are downstairs . . . well, the other ones." She adds the last bit with the faintest trace of a wry grin.

"Okay, thanks. I'll - er, we'll - be down in a minute," I say with a small smile. Gran nods, and walks out of the room, though I can see her shaking her head and muttering, probably about how crazy my friends and I are.

I clutch the notebook to my chest, moving over to my desk and opening the drawer. I drop the notebook in my drawer, close it, and then use a key from a charm on my bracelet to lock the drawer. I swivel on my heel, amd walk out the door to meet my other friends from Anubis House. From the sound of shoes on hardwood floor, I can tell Patricia is following me.

"Hey Nina," Mara calls from the bottom floor when I turn the corner of the stairs. I see her and Jerome standing there, both lugging suitcases behind them.

I grin, moving down the stairs at an even faster rate. I hug each of them in turn - yes, even Jerome - while Gran goes off into the kitchen to probably finish lunch.

"You're just in time. Lunch's almost ready - Gran's making beef stew," I say excitedly.

Jerome's face falls. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Nina. I forgot to tell you that I'm a vegetarian."

I have a small feeling that he is lying, based on the memories of him and Alfie scarfing down the platters of bacon that Trudy always gave us for breakfast, but maybe he became a vegetarian after the year had ended?

"Oh, I am so sorry!" I begin to apologize, but I am cut off by Patricia saying,

"Since when are you a vegetarian? Just yesterday, you were bragging that you were eating a steak, while I was stuck with my mum's awful cooking."

"Oh, c'mon Patricia. Can't you let me trick little Nina, here? Have some fun, won't you?" Jerome says with a scowl.

I hit his shoulder, a little annoyed that I fell for his trick, but also amused by his quip. It is true: I am gullible, but not so much that I would believe that "gullible" is written on the ceiling.

"Jerome, stop it. Don't trick Nina, we're supposed to be polite guests," Mara chastises him.

He seems to bite back a reply, only shaking his head and biting his lip, as if stifling a laugh. He picks up his suitcase by its handle, holding it more than a foot off the ground. "Need help with your bag, Mara?" he offers, holding out a hand for hers.

She only shakes her head. "Thanks, but I've got it."

"I'll show you to your rooms," Gran says, suddenly appearing by my side.

"Thank you," Mara chimes cheerily. Jerome nods with a small smile, like he is still laughing at his little trick, and they both follow Gran upstairs.

I face Patricia, who is leaning against the banister and examining her nails. "So, do you know when everyone else is coming?" she asks.

I begin to tick the list off of my fingers, remembering my hours of memorizing the schedule for the first and last days of everyone's visit. "You were supposed to come at one, but apparently you got here early." I shoot her a look, one she blatantly ignores, and I continue," Um, Fabian is coming at three, along with Amber and Alfie. You texted me that Mick and Joy are getting in at about six, just in time for dinner. And then Eddie is coming . . .?" I end the last bit with a question, hoping that she will fill in the blanks.

"He'll be here in ten, says my phone," she says, holding up her phone where a message states: _B ther in 10._

"Oh, good," I say meekly, shifting uneasily from foot-to-foot.

"You okay, Nina?" Patricia inquires, touching my shoulder. A sly smile spreads across her face, her eyes lighting up in understanding. "Wait. Are you still freaking out about the whole Paragon and Osirian thing?"

My look makes her laugh out loud. I blush scarlet red. "Nina, relax, nothing has changed. Eddie may be this new, powerful Chosen One, but he's still the same Eddie. You may be the other Chosen One, but you're still Nina. Okay?"

I nod. "Okay, right. I'm fine. Fine."

But I suppose I wasn't fine, since the moment the doorbell rings, my heart jumps straight into my throat. I take one more shaky, deep breath and open the door to face my counterpart, the Osirian, Eddie Sweet.

He seems a little surprised to see me, judging from his raised eyebrows and his reply of "Uh, hi, Nina."

I smile softly, but before I have to say anything, Patricia appears beside me and hugs her boyfriend, taking him by surprise.

"Eddie, hey! I missed you!" she says happily.

"Hey, Patricia," he says, returning her hug.

"I'll show you to your room," Patricia says, taking him by the hand and leading him off, while I am still standing at the doorway with words of greeting left on my lips.

. . .

"Gran, need any help with dinner?" I ask. She is hunched over the oven, fiddling with something on the cookie tray that is inside.

"Um, yes, dear. Could you get the plates from the cupboard? I didn't realize how many people were coming, so I haven't got enough on the table," Gran says.

"The blue and white ones?" I ask, seeing the stack of plates on the fifth shelf from the bottom. It is _just_ within my reach, thankfully.

"Yes, Nina. Thank you," Gran replies.

I reach up to grab the plate and my fingers barely graze the rim. I grumble in annoyance, but reach on the toes of my shoes to grab the plates. But I misjudge my reach, because a plate teeters on its edge and begins to tumble down toward me.

I am frozen for a moment, not able to move or react, but the next things happen as if I am watching them in slow motion. A hand reaches up and grabs the plate out of harm's way. Another hand steadies my back, making sure I do not stumble backwards onto the floor.

"Whoa. Be careful, Nina," says Eddie, holding the plate in his hand. He's looking at me with concern, as if he wants to be sure that I am not going to fall to pieces in his arms.

I shake my head, blinking rapidly in confusion. I notice him put the plate down on the counter, then grabs the rest of them from the shelf. He stacks them all together and hands them to me.

"Uh, t-thanks for the help," I stammer, still not able to form a coherent sentence. It's not that I'm embarrassed - okay, yes, I am embarrassed that I nearly shattered one of Gran's plates - but more stunned that it was Eddie, of all people, who saved the plate from crashing on my head.

"No problem," he says, giving me a ghost of a smile, and looking me in the eye, like he is assuring himself that I can still stand on my own without his help. Then, he is gone, with me standing there, clutching a stack of plates in my arms.

I realize that I am blushing fiercely, but not for reasons that most people would expect. No, I do not like Eddie, I am just completely embarrassed that I had to be saved from plates that were going to crash on my head, which would have resulted in my getting a concussion. I must have looked like one of those stupid, swooning girls that he claimed he flirted with.

I push my thoughts to the side and focus in on Gran. "Where do you want these plates, Gran?" I ask.

"Just on the counter there," she says, now stirring around something in her big, stainless steel pot. From the scent wafting in the kitchen, the stew is almost ready. My mouth waters, but I am more intent on getting back to my room than to wonder about lunch.

I place the plates on the counter beside the stove, Gran flashing me her kindest smile, and I nod, giving her a silent "You're welcome." Then, my feet are moving me without my own thoughts put into consideration, and they are racing toward the front door. My hands yank open the door, allowing me to continue my mad dash for the clean, crisp air of the summer that awaits me outside.

Hands catch me before I can barrel into the person, and I look up in confusion, only to be met with bright, sparkling blue eyes. All of a sudden, I am completely self-conscious about my appearance, knowing that my crazy run has caused my hair to act up and turn into a nest fit for pigeons in the center of New York City, while my makeup must be smudging from all of the humidity and sweat.

In other words, if Amber ever saw me like this, she would have a conniption.

"Nina?" he questions, worry laced in his voice. "Are you okay?"

"F-Fabian!" I manage to say, a hint of happiness in my voice, but also one of pure befuddlement. I am not sure if I'm ecstatic or nervous that he is here now.

_But why?_ I tell myself. _He's my boyfriend, and he's staying over for the summer - I should be overjoyed to spend a few weeks with him without drama and homework!_

I tuck those thoughts into a mental drawer for later, and throw my arms around my amazing boyfriend, trying to mask my mess of emotions as relief to finally see him after only a few weeks of being apart. Honestly, school ended only two weeks ago, and when I left I had not sounded heartbroken that we would not see each other for the summer - and at the time I had not known that all of Anubis House would be coming to America to stay with me and Gran. But back to the previous topic, we can Skype and text and call each other, so what is there to miss? Even though he is going to be in England and I in America for most of the summer, he is going to be at my side practically the entire summer, thanks to phones and the Internet . . . and this little vacation for Anubis House.

I return to my current position, hugging Fabian, practically to death. "I missed you," I whisper in his ear.

Okay, that is true. The decent resolution of the computer screen is nice, but I missed seeing his gorgeous face _in person._ Apparently he feels the same way, because he presses his chin onto the top of my curly brown hair, murmuring the same thing.

I pull away, returning my eyes to the beautiful blue orbs that I adore so much, and I can not help but pull his face to mine, so that we meet in a passionate, but blissful kiss.

But I can not stop those nagging thoughts that I tucked in the drawer a few moments ago - the ones that just _have_ to question everything: why am I so skittish around Eddie now? since he is the Osirian and I am the Paragon, do we need to be in a relationship or something? is the scene in the kitchen evidence that he is now my protector?

And most importantly, where's Perry?

* * *

Sorry about the last line. As you can probably tell - and if you can't, I suggest you go eat a bunch of chocolate and wonder what I'm talking about - I am a Phineas and Ferb fan. Not gonna add the reasons why, I'm trying to cut these A/Ns fairly short, which is obviously not working. But that line was just . . . too perfect _not_ to include for Nina's rambling!

*: the song title thing will be explained in the next chapter, I just needed a good beginning for this chapter.

Note: Every two chapters I'm going to be switching POVs!

Please review?


	2. Chapter 2

I'm so sorry this took me forever to update! Between dancing six-out-of-seven days of the week, along with piles of homework in classes that I'm struggling to keep up with, and just the basic needs of sleeping and eating... I haven't had time or energy to write. Along with an annoying case of Writer's Block that I didn't get over until a few days ago...

Anyway, I loved everyone's reviews - you guys are amazing! I really hope you enjoy, because the story is _just_ beginning...

* * *

"How was dinner for everyone?" Gran asks from the head of the table, glancing at the nine other people scattered around the room.

Alfie, Amber, and I sit at the breakfast bar, while our six other housemates are seated around two small tables that Gran and I pushed together. Since it is usually just Gran and I, the one table is only as big for four, but because of the number of people that have been invited over, we needed to use one of the foldable card tables to combine with our regular table.

Everyone murmurs words of praise, making Gran smile. I stand up, taking mine, Alfie, and Amber's empty plates and bring them to the sink, where Gran meets me with the other seven plates.

"Do you want me to help you clean up, Gran?" I say, turning on the faucet to wash the dishes.

Before I can dump my hands into the water, she stops me. "Don't worry, Nina, I've got it. Go have fun with your friends," she says.

"But-" I protest.*

"Nina, the only reason they are here is to hang out with you. I can do all of these chores for now," Gran insists. "I want you to have fun during the three weeks that they are here. After all, summer doesn't last forever."

I nod, pondering her last words and thinking that they are the perfect lyrics for the song that I had started to write. I leave the kitchen, only to meet Fabian in the hallway, studying a photo of my parents.

He turns to me when I stand beside him, whispering softly, "Are those them?"

He does not even need to clarify who "they" are, I already know. I don't even have to nod, he can see in my eyes, glimmering with sadness, that that is the truth. I can only just stare at the pictures of my parents, their smiling faces that just had to be taken away by one collision in one terrible storm. I realized how much I missed their hugs, their laughs, their smiles. Even my mother's terrible cooking, usually burned to a crisp, was missed.

"Your mother looks just like you," he says.

I scoff. "No, she doesn't. My mother was gorgeous."

"So are you, Nina," Fabian insists.

I roll my eyes at him, though cannot help blushing a little at his compliment. I take his arm, putting my head on his shoulder, shaking off the sad memories that still linger in the back of my mind. "Have you finished unpacking?"

"Actually, not yet. Your Gran's cooking smelled too amazing for me to bother to unpack," he replies.

I smile. "You just play the perfect boyfriend part brilliantly, don't you?"

"'Brilliantly', Nina? Looks like I'm rubbing off on you."

"Yeah, you most definitely are," I laugh. "But seriously, why are you so perfect?"

"I'm perfect?" he smirks, faking mock surprise.

"Don't pretend like you don't know what you're doing," I say. "Complimenting Gran's cooking, complimenting _me_. You want something, don't you?"

"I'm not trying to be the perfect boyfriend, I'm just telling the truth," he says.

I shake my head at him, but I still cannot stop smiling. "Of course you are." I put my arms around his neck, and he wraps his arms around my waist. "Do want me to be truthful?"

"It would be preferable, I suppose," he says.

"You're the most perfect boyfriend in the world, with a heart of gold, and an amazing smile," I compliment.

"I must be quite the catch then, hmm?" he questions.

"You know it," I say. And then I kiss him, because it just feels right, and _perfect_.

We have only been kissing for a minute, and then a yell makes us break apart in surprise. I can only recognize the yell as being from Amber, who is angrily saying, "Jerome, give that back!"

I groan in frustration, dropping my hands from around Fabian's neck, grumbling, "Always. Happens."

"Can we expect nothing less of our housemates?" Fabian answers, and I have to agree. For as long as Fabian and I have been together or had a moment, we have always been interrupted.

"I guess not. Should we go see what Amber and Jerome are up to?" I inquire.

He nods, taking my hand and squeezing it gently.

When we go upstairs, we see Amber standing in a tightly-wrapped pink towel, her hair still damp, making me guess that she just took a shower. She glowers at Jerome who is holding up a bundle of blue clothing in his hand. He keeps faking right and left to try and get around Amber, but she is too quick for him and will not let him pass.

"What happened to your sense of humor, Amber?" he teases.

"That's my favorite swimsuit, Jerome! And if you get it dirty I swear I will kill you," Amber threatens.

"Oh really?" Jerome asks, stepping back a few feet.

"_Where_ are you going?" Amber hisses, anger lacing her voice.

"Oh nowhere," he replies causally. All of a sudden, he dashes toward the stairs, almost knocking into me down them.* I see Eddie catch Jerome's arm before he can run down, the latter having to clutch the railing so as to not slip and hit his head on the stairs.

"Hold on, Jerry," Eddie scolds, pulling him back to the enraged Amber. "You're not going anywhere."

"Really, Eddie? _You_ of all people?" Jerome stares at him in surprise.

"Whoa. When did _you_ get responsible?" Patricia questions, stunned.

"Always the tone of surprise," he mutters, pushing Jerome towards Amber. "Jerry, I'd suggest you give those clothes back to Amber."

"Can no one take a joke anymore?" Jerome exclaims. No one answers, so he sighs in exasperation and throws the bundle of clothing at Amber. "Here. Take it."

He trudges off to his room, and Eddie and Patricia go off to their rooms, leaving me and Fabian to look at a slightly frazzled Amber smoothing out the wrinkles in her clothes. I notice that she is holding a bikini top and bottom, along with a sheer dress of knitted blue thread.

"Going swimming, Amber?" I say.

"Not really. More tanning, than anything. Would you two like to join me?"

Fabian and I exchange glances, recalling the heavy, humid air of the summer outside. It would be nice, getting out of the heat and relaxing in the cool water. We both nod, making Amber grin and say, "I'll meet you at the pool in a bit!"

She hurries to the room that she shares with me, slamming the door behind her so she can get changed. I turn back to Fabian, and he smiles at me, nodding for me to go on. I give him a quick kiss, saying, "I'll see you in a few minutes."

I am about to open the door, but realize it is locked tight. I jiggle the handle, but nothing happens. I bang on the door.

"Amber, let me in!" I say.

"Hold on, I'm changing!" Amber says.

"I need to change, too!" I retort.

"Nina, just hold on," Amber replies calmly.

I tap my foot, occasionally glancing at my phone to check the time. Five minutes pass. Ten. Fifteen.

I knock on the door again. "Amber, what are you doing in there that takes fifteen minutes?"

"Makeup."

"But you're going into the pool," I say slowly, trying to grasp her idea. It's not coming to me.

Her voice sounds closer to the door, "No, silly. I'm going to sun bathe. This porcelain white skin needs a bit of color."

She opens the door, and I see her final ensemble. A dark blue bikini top that ties at the back, with a matching bottom that ties on the sides; sparkling thread is embroidered in swirling designs on the edges of each piece. Over the bikini is a sheer, creamy-gold halter dress that shimmers with every movement, the same dress that I saw earlier.

"Nice. It's a good color on you," I compliment.

"I know, right? I knew that I needed something that would compliment my skin color, but was also really stylish that would portray my figure beautifully. And this one was perfect, so I just had to buy it!" She looks me over. "You're wearing _that_?"

I ignore her comment about my clothes and reply, "Not if I can get into our room to change."

"Oh. Right." She makes room for me to get past her, closing the door behind her. "Do you have anything pink?"

"Nope," I reply, digging through the neat piles of clothes sitting in my dresser's drawers.

"What are you wearing then?" Amber asks.

"This." I hold up my own swimsuit: a red one-piece with a sharp v-neck, the back cut-away in a diamond shape, with gold beading along the top.

"Ooh, pretty. I still think you would have looked better in a bikini*," Amber praises.

I blush softly. I'm not going to get into a bikini because I would look idiotic. "Thanks, but no thanks, Amber."

While I get dressed, Amber rambles on about what she has been doing in the two weeks we had been apart. She came home to find an early birthday present for her, an adorable French poodle puppy. She named the puppy Truffles, because apparently that's the perfect name for a poodle.

Once I am clad in my red swimsuit, I pick up a beach towel from the back of my chair, along with a bottle of sunscreen, while slipping on a pair of black flip flops that my aunt gave me for my birthday last year.

"Ready?" I say, interrupting Amber's babbling.

"Wh- Oh, yeah. Let's go."

. . .

Jumping into the pool, I swear I splashed Amber by accident, judging by the squeak I heard right before my ears were surrounded by water. It makes the area around me completely silent, and I remember all of the great times I had when I was younger, going swimming during the hot, summer months and loving the feel of the refreshing water on my skin.

I open my eyes - even in the chlorine water, my eyes don't sting after years of being subjected to the irritating solution - and look around the pool, seeing small air bubbles floating around my head. My hair swirls around my face, the brown tresses reflecting gold light in the crystal clear water. I am always amazed at the beauty of the water around me: the slow, undulating movements that surround my body, the light sparkling in every direction possible.

Soon, a slight ache begins to gnaw at the bottom of my chest, slowly building until it's almost unbearable. I surface, my hair slicking to my face and shoulders as I take in a deep breath and relish in the crisp wind that has appeared while I was underwater.

"Oh, thank goodness," Mara says, worry written all over her features. She is peering at me from the edge of the pool, her hair in a loose braid, falling over her shoulder, with thin strands fluttering in front of her face. It is obvious that she has not gone into the pool yet: her hair is not glistening from moisture, her skin still not covered in beads of water.

"What?" I say, my voice finally calm after recovering my breath.

"You were down there for a while, so I was afraid you had drowned or something," Mara explains.

"Oh," I answer. "Sorry. I've swam for as long as I can remember, so I have learned how to hold my breath for a while."

"You used to swim?" Fabian asks, coming towards us in a set of swim shorts, looking as lean and geek-chic-ish as ever.

"Yeah. It was a hobby I had before coming to England." I know I give out a huge open answer by leaving the last part out, but I really do not want to share the reason why I quit swimming.

"Why did you stop?" Fabian's question rings in my ears, asking the question that I dread the most.

I disregard the question and say, "So, who's coming in with me?"

Fabian locks eyes with me for a minute, a bit of confusion in his eyes. I smile sheepishly, trying to dissuade him from pushing the subject. He looks away, beginning to rub sunscreen on his arms.

I keep my uneasy smile on my face for a moment longer, before it disappears, changing into a small frown. I don't want to keep the reason from him, but in front of everyone here? No, that was just too personal. I would share it with Fabian or Amber, since they are the closest people I know, but that's it. Everyone else are friends, but just that.

"Cannonball!" I hear someone shout.

I turn, just in time to see Eddie catapult himself into the water, drenching me from head-to-toe, and making Amber screech in surprise.

"Oh. My. God. Now, I am completely soaking wet, and I have to go fix my makeup. Thanks _a lot_!" She stomps off, her hair hanging in blonde curtains around her face, so I cannot read her expression.

I laugh at Eddie's stunt, seeing him clearly soaked from his jump: his spiky hair now laden with sparkling beads of water. "Nice one," I say wryly. I push the back of my hand against the water, causing a small wave to spray his face. "But _that's_ for splashing my best friend!"

He smacks his palm on the top of the water, causing a ripple effect and splattering me with water in return, making me yelp. Then, we engage in a massive splashing fight, all the while laughing and feeling the warmth of the summer sun on our backs.

* * *

1st *: I figured that Nina, being the Mary Sue she is, would offer to help, even though most teens would just leave and not care.

2nd *: I'm not sure if they have specific terms for swimsuits or whatnot in England, so I sort of just went with the American terms... Sorry.

3rd *: I thought Jerome was going to throw the clothes into the garden and get them dirty, or whatever...

I honestly don't like the name of this story, so please review and send in a new name for it. I'll post the names next chapter, and you guys can vote on your favorite. So, once again, please review!

~Ary


	3. Chapter 3

Still Nina's POV, sorry... I know, she's getting a bit annoying. She's the star in most of my stories - I know, I'm sorry. Anyway, this one is longer than the other ones! A bit of a gift for sticking with me with my awful schedule... Okay, without further talking, enjoy!

* * *

Soon, the sky shifts to a lovely orange tinge, signaling that evening is fast approaching. Cicadas begin to chirp in the air, their sounds carried on the light breeze that is so common here in northern California. The faint outline of a crescent moon can be seen a little bit above the eastern horizon, colored a milky white as it prepares to rise to the crest of the sky.

All of Anubis House is clustered around my Gran's old fire pit that we never use. But we do have a few pieces of wood sitting in a pile near the sliding door leading into the house, so we grab a few logs, some stray sticks lying around the yard, and a dozen handfuls of weeds scattered around to pile them together in the fire pit. Then, I light a match and toss it in, alighting the mound in the pit, and we have a fire.

Gran hands us all some pokers, a bag of marshmallows, a few bars of Hershey's chocolate, and a couple boxes of graham crackers. And with all of those ingredients, of course we have to make s'mores.

Amber is somewhere in the house, her excuse being that she needed her beauty sleep, even though it was only eight-thirty. But I have a feeling that she just does not want to be around the sugary temptations of marshmallows and chocolate, or the bugs that may eat her alive because she wears so much sweet-smelling perfume.

On one side, Alfie and Jerome are trying to fit as many marshmallows into their mouths as possible, while Mara and Patricia are looking on, completely grossed out. Eddie is sticking as many marshmallows on his poker as possible, ignoring the fact that some of the marshmallows are being burned to a crisp and falling into the fire pit. Mick and Joy said that they were tired from the flight and would tuck in early for the night. But from the sounds that I heard from the room beside my own when I was about to go down to the pool, they were watching movies and laughing. Fabian and I are snuggling together, his arm encircling my waist while my head is on his chest. I clutch the poker and hold it over the fire, waiting for the marshmallow to get nice and toasty.

We have not bothered to change back into regular clothes, instead, we all used our towels to keep warm. I can feel my feet slowly turning numb, so I wriggle out of Fabian's arms, startling him into almost dropping the poker into the fire.

"You okay?" he asks.

"Yeah, I just need to stand up and walk around for a bit. I'm fine. I'll be back in a few minutes," I say. I give him a quick kiss on the cheek, slip on my flip-flops, then wrap the towel around my shoulders as I walk on pins and needles.

I open the sliding door, feeling the cool air swirl around me, but making me chilly because it is such a contrast from the warm summer air outside. I shut the door behind me, letting out a small sigh.

"What's wrong, Nina?" I hear Gran say from the kitchen.

I lift my head to see her sitting at the breakfast bar, a cup of tea in hand that steams, as if it has just been made. I smile weakly at her, approaching the breakfast bar and taking a seat beside her.

I avoid the question, though, instead saying, "What kind of tea is that, Gran?"

"Chamomile. You look like you could use some. Now, what's going on?"

"N-Nothing. I'm fine." I turn to my hands in my lap, seeing them twist and untwist the towel in my fingers.

"Do you honestly expect me to believe that, Nina? I know you. I know when something is worrying you," Gran says.

"I can tell you anything, I know. But there's nothing to tell, I'm perfectly fine."

She just stares at me for a moment, examining me to see if I will suddenly break and tell her the truth. But, surprisingly enough, she doesn't say anything and looks back at her tea.

Feeling a bit shaken from Gran's small interrogation, I go back out into the early evening air, sit back down next to Fabian - who greets me with a smile - and lie my head on his shoulder, not wanting to think about anything but the marshmallows I need to cook for the s'mores. As I stare into the gold-orange flames, I feel heavy weights of guilt about not telling Gran what was really on my mind continue to drop onto my heart.*

. . .

The next few days, I am able to get over my guilt and actually have fun. Gran appears to have forgotten all about our conversation in the kitchen, and for that I am grateful. I have continued to write the song in the notebook Patricia stole from me on that first day. Who was that song meant for, you may ask? Fabian, of course. It is his birthday in about a month, so I want to make something from me that really means something.

One day is especially hard, because nothing is coming to me. I have about a quarter of the song done: the rhythm in my head, the lyrics written down and corresponding to the melody - but it just does not seem to be coming together.

"Okay," I muse, tapping the nearly-finished eraser tip of my pencil to my forehead as I contemplate the next stanza of lyrics. "_Summer doesn't last forever . . . We all have to grow up someday. These are the best days of our lives . . . So we might as well make it worth it... Every time I look in your blue eyes, you make me fall harder, every time. I love your smile, the sound of your voice. The song in your heart, you make me rejoice_-"

Not liking the way the lyrics are flowing together, I groan, and rip the paper from its binding, crumpling it into a ball. I can not write a freaking thing. This song sucks, and now I have no present for Fabian's birthday!

I dig my fingers through my hair, almost tearing it from its roots. Why can I not write a decent song? I've heard Fabian sing amazing songs, even just simple scales, when I walked by his room at Anubis House. How can it come so easy to him, while I'm struggling to just make it to the chorus? What is my present going to be _now_ - now that my song is ruined?

A soft knock on my bedroom door jolts me out of my thoughts. My eyes snap open, turning to the person at the door. There is Amber, a small smile on her pretty face.

"Hey, Nina. What's going on?" Amber inquires curiously.

"Amber!" I start, trying to pat down my suddenly-tangled hair. I set down the notebook on her bed, sitting up to greet my best friend. "Hi, um, how are you?"

"Fine." She lifts an eyebrow. "Again, I repeat: what are you doing?"

"I-" I eye the open door, wondering if anyone will bother to eavesdrop on our conversation from the hallway. "Could you close the door?"

She nods, and the door shuts with a thud. I pick up the notebook from the bed and the crumpled wad of paper, handing both to her. She raises both eyebrows in confusion, but I just motion for her to read them.

I see her eyes scanning the lines, then they widen, and she drops the notebook and paper, a wide grin on her face. A squeal escapes her lips, and she rushes over to hug me.

"You're writing him a _song_?" she exclaims. She bites her lip, like she is trying to suppress her giggling.

I nod, a blush evident on my cheeks. "It's for his birthday, y'know, in a month or so."

"That is so romantic! Can I get a picture of you two when you sing it to him?"

I frown. "Um, no, sorry. I mean, it's kind of personal and private and-"

"Oh. Right." She gives a light laugh. "Sorry."

"Anyway, can I test it on you?" I ask her, picking up my guitar from the side of the bed.

"You have to ask? Yes, of course!" Amber perches on the side of my bed beside me, her attention completely centered on me. I gulp, feeling a bit nervous to actually sing in front of someone.

But as I begin strumming the melancholy notes of the song, it all seemed to fit together and sound beautiful. My voice flows in perfect harmony with the lyrics, and all the doubts I had about the song were put away. This was perfect.

And my theories are proven when I finish the first part, the only part I have actually completed, and Amber is looking teary-eyed, her lip quivering, but a small smile still on her face.

"That was amazing! You have to play that for him! Like, as soon as possible!" She snatches my guitar and notebook from my hands, racing to the door to probably head to Fabian's room.

Before Amber can run out of the room, I skid in front of her, making her stop in her tracks. I press my back against the door to make sure she cannot leave. It is one thing to sing it in front of Amber, my best friend, who I can tell anything to. But it is an entirely different thing to sing this in front of Fabian. Especially when it is not done or I'm still fretting over the minor details. To perform the song with those things in mind - that would take some courage to do.

"But it's not done!" I say hastily. "I'll do it during the last week you guys are here, okay? I-I want it to be perfect when I play it for him."

"Oh okay." She hands me back my guitar and notebook, smiling sweetly. Then she shouts, "Oh, Faaabian!"

I clamp a hand over her mouth, muffling her shouts. But within a minute, Fabian rushes in, a look of confusion on his face.

"Yeah?" He sees our strange positions. "Um, Nina? Why are you covering Amber's mouth?"

I sigh, removing my hand. But I really should not have done that, because a stream of words spills out of the blonde's mouth: "Nina is making you a song and she really wants you to listen to it!"

"Amber!" I hiss.

Fabian raises his eyebrows in surprise. "A song? Can I hear it?"

"Um, er, well, it's not really, uh, _finished_ yet . . ." I stammer, trying to form a coherent sentence while I try to hide my blush.

I can hear the smile in her voice, even though I am not seeing it for myself, as she says, "Well, I'll just leave you two here so you can continue this conversation in private."

I pretend to tune the strings of my guitar while Amber leaves, the door quietly closing behind her, not wanting to meet Fabian's eyes. It is silent for a few moments, the silence only disturbed by the light notes being played as I tune.

"So, do you want to play the song?" he asks meekly. I jump in surprise, momentarily forgetting that he is there, only being lost in the sound of my guitar's music.

"Um, sure," I reply nervously.

I grab the song book, already on the right page, and I quickly scan over the notes. Even though I have memorized most of the song so far, I am so nervous to sing it to him that I have to read it twice to make sure I know what I am doing.

One deep breath. My hand plays the first note, and I try to sing, but it comes out as a croak. I clear my throat, stopping my strumming, and try to sing a scale. It comes out as a few squeaks and a flat note.

"Nina, are you okay? You seem a bit nervous," Fabian observes.

_You don't say?_ I think to myself sarcastically. But I nod, dropping my guitar into my lap and covering my face with my hands, my pick still between my fingers.

"I'm just- I don't know. I want it to be perfect, and this isn't the best I can do. I mean- I wanted this for your birthday, and now the surprise is ruined-" I try to say, but it just sounds jumbled and confusing and I just shake my head.

"Nina, you sound fine. I'm sure the song is amazing, too," he encourages.

I don't saying anything, I just drown in pools of my own embarrassment.

The pressure of my guitar disappears from my lap, and the sound of crinkling paper tells me that Fabian has taken the song book from my side. The mattress sags beside me, and I know that he has sat beside me. Well, that, and the fact that I feel the warmth of another person at my side.

"Nina, uncover your eyes." Fabian's voice is in my ear, and I shake my head. I hear him sigh, then soft, war hands envelop me own, and I lock eyes with his beautiful blue irises.

"I can't do it. I'm so bad at it," I whisper.

He shakes his head, a small, wistful smile on his face. "No. I've heard you sing. You're amazing, Nina. You can do this." I turn red from the memory.

He has heard me sing. More accidently, than anything. I had been in Anubis House, the last day of term before leaving for summer break, and I had been singing in the shower, humming an old lullaby that my mom had sung to me when I was a little girl. After I wrapped myself in a towel, I stepped outside of the bathroom, my bundle of clothes in hand.

But before I went anywhere, I ran smack into Fabian, who was gawking at me. I yelped in surprise - yes, we are boyfriend and girlfriend, but it was still embarrassing that he saw me only in a towel. We only stared at each other before I skittered away in total and utter mortification.

Fabian wraps his arms around me, placing his hands over mine. He moves my fingers to a C chord, then uses the other hand to strum. We both hum the first lyric together as the sweet sound of the guitar rings strongly in the quiet room.

I smile, shaking my head. Because of our closeness, I feel Fabian laugh softly.

"What? That's how you do it!" he says.

"I know, I know," I laugh, continuing to strum, though without his help. "I just feel stupid that I can't sing in front of you."

"You're not stupid. It's just nerves. I get them all of the time," Fabian murmurs, dropping his hands from my own and leaving one wrapped loosely around my waist.

"What do you have to be nervous about?" I inquire. "You're pretty much perfect."

Fabian laughs, and I can tell that he is shaking his head. "Nina, I can't believe you said that. I am so far from perfect, it is ridiculous."

"Really," I say doubtfully, absentmindedly changing to a simple A chord.

"Yes, really."

"I doubt it."

He sighs. "Do you want an example? Well, I'm nervous whenever I'm around you."

My hand pauses, leaving the last string still, not played. Dropping my hand, the pick falls to the ground, my fingertips grazing that forgotten string to let the last note sound. I move my gaze to find his, where he is looking down at his feet, his face a little red.

"You are?" I question, a little bit doubtful, but also stunned.

"Of course I am. Y-You make my heart beat fast wh-when I see you - n-not only because y-you're so beautiful, b-but because you're just . . . you."

I blush and scoff, though I take his hand and squeeze it. "Well, thank you. I always try to act like me throughout the entire day."

He exhales as if he is holding his breath, awaiting my reply. He rolls his eyes, but still smiles at me. "You know what I mean. Y-You're so down to earth, and-and amazing, a-and fearless, and . . . m-my Chosen One."

I blush even more at the last part, remembering the dance for the end of the Exhibition party at the Frobisher-Smythe library, where Fabian and I had made up as a couple and he called me _his_ Chosen One. It was probably one of the sweetest things anyone has ever said to me.

"So am I the Chosen dancer?" I ask innocently, wondering if I can actually have a little fun with this.

"You're not that bad," Fabian remarks.

"Oh, thanks, boyfriend."

"You wanted me to be honest!"

"Not really!"

"Well, do you want to try, then?" Fabian offers.

I hesitate for a moment, eyeing the area around us for a moment to make sure that if I fell - and knowing my skill level of dancing, that would happen - we will not break anything valuable. Once I am assured that nothing of too much importance will need to be replaced, I stand up with the help of his hand, his arms immediately wrapping around my waist.

I curl my arms around his neck, and for a moment, I am transported back to the night of our first kiss, of the End-of-Term Prom, where we were crowned King and Queen by Amber. I am looking like a mess in my purple dress with a dorky crown on my head, while Fabian is looking as handsome as a geek can be in his sleek, black tux. I am staring into his eyes as we shuffle back in forth in an awkward slow dance together. But it does not matter that we look like idiots, or that everyone is staring at us, dancing on stage, because we are there together, and that is all that matters at the moment.

And then I am thrust back into the present, where I and the same boy that I kissed on that day are standing in an almost identical position to that night, only this time there is no music, no dorky crowns, and no fancy attire. Just two teenagers, dancing in a sixteen-almost-seventeen-year-old girl's room, to no music, in the middle of the summer.

"Do we need some music?" I wonder aloud.

"I bet one pound that Amber will have something planned for us to dance to in the next minute," he assures me.

"I'm willing to take that bet," I tease.

From what I can gauge, a minute has passed and no sound besides our soft breathing has been heard. For once, Amber has left us alone, giving her "Fabina" some privacy.

"It's been a minute," I observe.

"Has it?" he asks, peering at his watch. The slight nod of his head only confirms the time.

"Since I don't know where my pounds are in this messy area that I call a room, would you accept a kiss as payment instead?" I question.

He just smiles, leaning toward me, and I meet him right in the middle. I honestly cannot stop smiling as I kiss him. The butterflies in my stomach go insane, fluttering like there is an insect collector after them with his net; my heart pounds like it wants to leap out of my chest; I can feel the blush on my cheeks grow even redder than before. But I cannot even bother to worry about that, because the only thought that I can formulate in my mind is that his lips are really warm.

My fingers tangle in the curly hair at the nape of his neck as the kiss deepens, and I feel myself being pulled even closer to him when his arms circle more securely around my waist. But then it is ruined with a squeal by a certain blonde roommate that, at the moment, I want to strangle.

I should of known this would happen, but I was hoping that she was still taking her nap or shower or something that would avert her from this room so that she would not break up this moment. But alas, it is like the universe just wants to torture us with the constant interruptions that never allow us one moment of peace.

"This is going to be on the main page of your scrapbook!" she squeals as a bright light makes Fabian and I break apart in surprise.

The two of us exchange glances, both of us annoyed, but also realizing how intense that kiss was. Our faces both redden and we glance away from each other as we pat down our hair and straighten out our shirts.

Amber is still being the intrusive, inquisitive, love guru that I have come to know, and to occasionally be extremely annoyed, and love. Fabian and I never get more than five minutes to kiss alone, even in the privacy of my room. Nothing is changed, which, I suppose, is a good thing, since we all grow up and grow older/drift apart. I guess something pre-determined is a sign that not everything has to change, no matter how old we get.

* * *

*: Sorry for the terrible grammar, especially here. Ugh, I just couldn't construct that sentence correctly... No matter what I did!

By the way, next chapter is Eddie's POV. GASP. Or is it...?

...

No, it is. (:

This was kind of cute, but mostly fluff that's prepping for the next chapter. I'm going to spare you guys the sob story of why this update is so freaking late. But I do need to get your opinion on the possible names for the story!

Sent in by:

-CatchingRaindrops (love your name, by the way xD): A Possibility

-Neddieluver22: Summer in America / Summer=Love/Summer=Neddie / Confusing Love/Love Is Confusing

-And my own: Opposites Attract

So please vote - and do not vote mine just because I am the author - and let me know which one is your favorite! And I am not voting, just for the record, I want this to just be the readers' choice. :D Thank you so much, everyone, now please review... (Even though I don't deserve it.)

~Ary


	4. Chapter 4

I'll spare you all of the details/ excuses of why I've been gone for so long. But just know that it took me three tries to write this chapter. And each time it ended badly or just didn't work out in the end...

But even though this is way shorter than I usually post, I hope it holds you over 'til the next chapter because this is _just_ the beginning of the Neddie-ness!

* * *

~Eddie's POV~

I walk into the living room, only to be attacked with piles of pink, sparkly fluff. Not only are there massive amounts of fluffy stuff in my face, but there are also feathers. Lots and lots of feathers.

I spit out at least half a dozen feathers out of my mouth, pushing the fluff away from my face to see Amber smiling up at me. Then, I realize that the whole living room is covered in the stuff. Long, shimmery, pink streamers adorn the wall, along with bows and ribbons covering each couch and end table, and fluff is piled on each couch.

"Uh, what's going on?" I ask, bemused at the sight in front of me. I'm actually wondering if I woke up in a parallel universe where everyone lives, breathes, and eats pink. But a flustered Patricia comes to my side, wearing a black t-shirt and regular blue jeans, a stark contrast to the pink world.

"Amber's going overboard, as usual. I just escaped her trying to put a pink bow in my hair," Patricia pants, breathless.

"Oh, Patricia! There you are!" Amber exclaims, holding up a neon pink bow.

"Gah!" Patricia screeches, running away.

The sight makes me stifle a laugh. Before the crazy blonde can follow her, I grab Amber's arm, stopping her in her tracks. She spins around, looking at me with an annoyed, though curious look.

"Yes?" she questions.

"What's going on?" I repeat.

"We're planning for Nina's birthday party!"

"And mine!" I hear Joy call from somewhere in the room, sounding irritable.

Amber waves her off, staring down at the pink ribbon in her hand.

"But isn't Nina's birthday in, like, two weeks or something?" I wonder aloud.

"Yes, but we're only going to be here until the end of June, so we won't be able to celebrate it on the actual day."

"So you want to celebrate it a week-and-a-half early?"

"Yep. Now go and help decorate the fireplace."

"Aren't you worried that Nina is going to come in here before you're ready?"

"Nope! Fabian's taking care of her. They're out to dinner right now."

I try to sort through her weird logic. "So, the party's tonight?"

She sighs, shaking her head at me like the truth is completely obvious and that I am just being a little slow today. "No, of course not. That would be silly. It's going to be this Saturday."

"So you need Fabian to keep Nina away from half of the house for three days?" I say, doubtful.

"Yes, obviously. Gosh, do I have to make it any more clear?" Amber rolls her eyes, then notices something that Mara is doing. "Mara! Put that pink chiffon on the _table_, not the chairs!"

"That girl has some issues," Joy says from my side.

I turn to her, seeing pink feathers strewn in her brown hair. "You have a little-" I gesture vaguely at her hair.

"Wh-? Oh." She picks the feathers out of her hair, scattering them on the ground.

I laugh. "Is Amber usually this crazy about parties?"

Joy shrugs. "Well, this is _Nina_ were talking about. She's usually the center of attention, especially to Amber. It makes sense to throw a birthday bash for her. I'll just sit in my room, eating a piece of cake by myself."

I detect the smallest hint of jealousy in her voice, but before I can interrogate her about it, I hear Mick come from behind, saying, "I'll eat a piece with you."

Joy grins. "More like ten pieces. But thanks."

I clear my throat. "Well, I'm just going to stop psycho-Amber from attacking Nina's grandma with pink silk, so I'm just going to go . . ."

Both of them laugh, and I don't see what they do next because I don't stick around long enough to see.

I see Amber insisting that Nina's grandma wear a bright pink boa or a pink scarf around her neck. I shake my head at Amber's actions.

"Amber," I start, taking the scarf from her hand and putting it above my head.

"Hey! Give that back to me, Eddie! I need it for Nina's Gran!" Amber cries, reaching up and trying to grab it from me.

I see Nina's grandma giving me a silent nod of thanks as she gets up and moves toward the kitchen. I reply, "No. Amber, are you sure that Nina would want this? All of this . . . pink?"

Amber chuckles, momentarily stopping in her conquest for the scarf. "Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. You don't know Nina like I do. She will _love_ this, I guarantee it."

"Yeah, definitely," I mutter to myself.

"Now, if you'll excuse me- Fabian! What are you doing here?" Amber squeaks, noticing him coming into the room.

Fabian appears, completely green in the face and not looking very good. Then, we hear Nina calling from the hallway, saying, "Fabian, where did you go? I don't want you to throw up in the living room!"

At the word "throw up," Fabian's eyes bulge and he runs for the nearest bathroom and I can hear him puking. Amber's smiley expression softens into one of distress as she glances at the door of the bathroom, then the closed door leading to the hallway, where Nina's voice sounds even more worried than before,

"Fabian? Are you okay?"

"Eddie! Stop her from coming in! Now!" Amber hisses, shoving me toward the door.

"Hey- Okay, okay!" I reply, slipping out of the door and into the hallway, bumping right into Nina.

"Um, hey," she says, startled for a moment. She peers around me, trying to get to the door. "Have you seen Fabian? I saw him go in there, but-"

"Uh, yeah. He's in there, but he's in the bathroom." I hastily add, "And puking."

"Is he okay? I think he got sick from the sushi we had and-" She stops her talking and stares at me for a moment.

"What? Am I that handsome that you can't keep your eyes off of me?" I say cockily, a smirk on my face.

Nina gives me a deadpan expression, saying that she is clearly not impressed. "No need to toot your own horn, or anything, huh?"

"Who says 'toot'?"

I get an eye roll, but also a laugh. "I do," she says. "But back to my question: why do you have pink sparkles in your hair?"

"Wait, what?" I say, fumbling with my hair. Suddenly, pink glitter dances in front of my vision as the sparkles rain to the ground. Nina laughs again, ruffling my hair to drench the ground in more glitter.

"Is it all out?" I inquire.

She nods, a smile on her face. "So what's the big secret?"

"Secret?"

"Yeah. There's a reason you're keeping me out of that room."

"No reason. I just feel like talking to you right now."

"Really?" Nina raises her eyebrows in surprise as she crosses her arms, giving me a dubious look.

"Really." I match her position, though I plant a smirk on my face as we try to stare each other down.

I feel the door behind me open up a crack, and Amber whispers, "Psst - Eddie! We're all clear. You can bring Nina in now!"

"Is that Amber?" Nina questions, a wry grin on her face.

"Oh no! She heard me!" she yelps, and I feel the door shut behind me with a loud thud that leaves a slight ringing in my ears.

"What is that blonde up to _now_?" Nina murmurs with an eye roll.

"Oh, you'll see," I say, more to myself than to her.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

* * *

Yeah, nothing happened and it was just some flirting. Sorry, I ran out of ideas for this chapter. I needed some sort of segway for them to begin to interact, since in the show they BARELY talk.

Okay, so I'm pretty sure, based on the votes I counted, that "A Possibility" has won! Maybe I'm wrong, but I can't remember where I put the tallies for the voting... Oh well.

So now, this story is called "A Possibility" - now you all know! :D

Please review, even though I am a terrible author/updater that does not deserve your feedback!

~Ary


	5. Chapter 5

Gah. Curse these cases of writer's block... Anyway, here's Chapter 5 where little-to-nothing happens. Yes, another fluff chapter. I'M SORRY! ):

This chapter is still in Eddie's POV, but I may change it next chapter... Maybe.

* * *

I am standing at the breakfast bar at nine in the morning - crazy, right? Me, a teenage guy, up before noon - with a delicious apple in my hand, just minding my own business, when someone drags me away by the arm, making me drop my tasty apple.

"Hey! No- My food!" I whine sadly.

"Forget it," Amber says. "It's unnecessary carbs, anyway."

"But my-"

"Never mind that. We need to discuss things."

"What kind of things?"

"Things."

"My arm hurts."

"Do you ever stop complaining?"

"Are we there yet?"

"Yes!" She drops me into a chair, and I see two other people have been seated beside me: Mick, and Jerome.

"Can I just go back to my room?" Jerry mutters.

"What's this about?" Mick groans.

"Nina, that's who. Now will you three shut it and listen to what we have to say?" Patricia retorts.

"Order. Order in the court," Amber calls.

"This isn't a court," I grumble.

The blonde shoots daggers at me that I ignore. "_Anyway_, I've called this court to order to reassign roles to plan for Nina's birthday-"

"Mine and Nina's," Joy interjects.

"Fine. Nina and _Joy's_ birthday party." Amber turns to Joy, eyebrows raised. "Is that okay?"

Joy rolls her eyes, waving her hand in a motion of "go on."

"_Anyway_," Amber repeats. "Eddie, because Fabian is out at the moment, you will be in charge of keeping Nina busy."

"And you can't do that _because_ . . . ?" Patricia asks.

"_Because_ I need to organize the party! Duh. Who else will do it justice - Joy?"

"Hey!" Joy exclaims. "Will you quit criticizing me? Just because I'm helping with the party does not mean that I'm just an unfeeling ornament on the wall!"

"Okay, I'm _sorry_," Amber replies, though her heart doesn't seem to be in it.

"Bitch," I hear Joy mutter. I stifle a laugh, trying to refocus on Amber.

"So, I'm reassigning roles. Eddie, you already know your job. Patricia and Mara, you two are on food with Mrs. Martin. Mick and Alfie, you two are on party decor-"

"How are we supposed to know what to get?" Alfie pipes up from beside Patricia.

"Yeah, if I go with him, you'll end up with an alien-/zombie-themed party," Mick mutters.

"And what would be wrong with that?" Alfie argues.

"Nothing, if you want to be a loser," Mick counters.

"Now, hold on-" Alfie begins.

"Quiet!" Patricia shouts, silencing the room.

"Thank you, Patricia," Amber says calmly. "Now, Jerome and Joy, you're in charge of music-"

Joy groans, clearly not excited about this match-up. She shakes her head, brown locks flicking back and forth in front of her.

"Disappointed, Mercer?" Jerome inquires innocently.

"Aren't you, Clarke?" Joy sneers.

Before they can continue to argue, I interrupt them by speaking to Amber, "So what are _you_ doing?"

"I get to order people around with my shiny clipboard and wear these _adorable_ heels-" I glance down and see a metallic pink clipboard in hand, along with a pair of black shoes with red bows on them, finding myself asking why on earth I was actually curious about what she was referring to "-that's _plenty_ of work for me. Now, everyone get going!"

Everyone shuffles out of the room, except for Amber and I. Moving toward her, I see her sending a quick text to someone, only noticing me after I tap her on the shoulder.

"Yes?" she answers.

"Where's Nina?" I say.

"Probably with Fabian."

"And where are they?"

"In your guys' room. Where else?"

I shrug, going toward the hallway and finding my bedroom door slightly ajar. Before going in, I hear Nina speaking softly to Fabian,

"Do you want some more water?"

Fabian croaks, "No, thank you."

"Need anything else?"

He ignores the question, apologizing instead, "I'm so sorry I got sick on our date-" I roll my eyes at his apology. He would be apologizing for getting sick, even though there is no actual way he could have known about it.

She shushes him, "No, don't worry about that. Just think about getting better and we can go on another date later."

"Yeah, that would be nice," he says, his voice barely audible through the door.

I assume she kisses him or something, because no more talking can be heard. Then again, he is sick, so why would she kiss him? Especially after he's been puking so much. I push my thoughts away when I hear the knob turning, signaling that someone is coming out. I hurry away from the door before I knock straight into Nina coming out of the room. Planting a smirk on my face, I stroll casually away from the door, only to have Nina's voice stop me in my tracks.

"Eddie? What are you doing here?" she inquires.

"Just walking," I reply.

"Come to tell me why you had glitter in your hair yesterday?" she says wryly. "Pink is quite the manly color."

"Ah, I was trying to show off my sensitivity."

"Oh, definitely."

"Enough about me, though I love to talk about myself." She shakes her head at my modesty. "How's Fabian?"

"Why don't you go in there and ask him yourself?"

I shrug my shoulders. "Takes too much effort."

"Since you're so caring about your roommate, I'll let you know what's happening: he's recovering from a stomach bug of some sort. He should be better by tomorrow, says Gran."

_Just in time for the party_, I told myself. "That's good," I remark.

"Yep."

Suddenly, someone pushes us apart, and I see a flash of brown hair and then hear the slam of the bathroom door. The sound of puking is heard, making my stomach clench at the noise.

"Well, there goes his breakfast," I comment dryly.

"I'm going to go check on him," Nina says.

"Whoa there." I grab her wrist, stopping her from going into the disgusting-smelling bathroom. I have a feeling that she will regret going in there, probably getting puke all over her clothes. "You really want to go in there?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Aren't you worried about getting puke all over you?"

"No, I care about him. He's my boyfriend."

"But he's puking."

"Just let go of my wrist! I need to help him!"

"Don't you dare get your shirt dirty! You need it for the p-" Amber shrieks, then stops as she realizes that she almost gave away the secret.

"For what?" Nina says, slipping out of my hold and looking curiously at her. Over her shoulder, I glare at Amber, thinking that she is one of the stupidest surprise party planners I've ever met.

"Um, n-nothing," Amber says meekly.

Nina approaches her roommate, eyeing her suspiciously. "What are you hiding from me, Amber?"

"Noth-" Amber starts, but I interrupt her.

"Sh-She was just saying that you shouldn't get it dirty because of the . . . p-prunes!" I say the first thing that comes to mind, then realize how stupid it sounds.

"Prunes?" Nina asks, looking skeptical.

"Yeah, the, um, prunes, for the prune juice!" Amber tries, going along with my lie.

"Prune juice," Nina repeats, trying to make sense of our excuses.

"Yeah. Haven't you ever had a nice cup of prune juice in the summer?"

She raises her eyebrows at me, sending me a doubtful look. "Have _you_?" she responds.

I scoff. "Yeah, of course! I've been craving it for a while, and been meaning to go to the store to get some."

"Well, if you're serious, let's go," Nina tells me calmly.

I pale, regretting what I just said. I don't like prunes, why did I use that? Why? The smallest smile plays on her lips, because she knows that she caught me. I swiftly glance at Amber over Nina's shoulder, who is bobbing her head up and down like a broken bobble head, mouthing, "Do it! Do it!"

I silently sigh to myself, not sure why I'm actually going along with this. "Uh, yeah. Let's go."

Nina seems a little surprised that I'm actually going, but swiftly regains her composure and goes up to her room to get ready to go.

As soon as I see her turn the corner, I let out a heavy sigh, muttering, "Why on earth am I doing this? I can't believe I have to drink prune juice . . ."

"Good job, Eddie!" Amber commends. "Keep her out of the house until about eight o'clock, okay? Thanks!" She gives me a quick pat on the shoulder before skipping off to do whatever it is Amber does with her day.

I look after her hopelessly, realizing that she will definitely not be any help with getting me out of this mess. I dig my hands through my hair, trying to form ideas of how to get out of this situation.

But, nothing comes to mind. I've got nothing. Perfect.

. . .

"Did you see the look the cash register lady gave us when we came up to her with twenty cans of prune juice?" I laugh, carrying two armloads of the stuff.

Nina giggles, swinging a bag of prune juice cans in each hand. "Yeah, she looked really surprised."

"Probably didn't think it'd be us drinking it," I say.

"Us?" she says.

"Hey, you are definitely drinking some of this with me. I may love this stuff, but twenty cans is a little overboard," I reply.

Nina elbows me in the side, though laughs again. "Fine, if I have to. Is it actually as good as you say it is?"

"What, you don't believe me?"

"Well, I thought you were just sugar-coating it for me! I've never really thought of prunes as appetizing."

"They're not that bad," I insist. _At least I hope they're not bad_, I think to myself.

"Shall we try one?"

"Don't want to share any of the delicious prune juice with the rest of the house?"

"I doubt they want any," she replies, about to open the door.

As she turns the knob, I see a flash of pink and realize that someone just ran by, still preparing for the party.

"Wait!" I say, grabbing her arm while using my elbow to shut the door closed.

She whirls to me, confused at my reaction. "What's wrong? Don't want to share the prune juice with our housemates?" she teases, repeating my line from a few moments ago.

"N-No, uh, y-you're right! We don't need to share any of it with them, we can just have it ourselves."

"Eddie, don't be ridiculous. Two people cannot drink twenty cans of prune juice. C'mon, let's go in-"

She tries to open the door, but I still have my elbow on it, and I stop the door from opening.

"What are you doing?" Nina argues, shoving my arm away and going to open the door again.

I think fast, then grab a can of the prune juice, open it, and splash her. Her white shirt turns a dark purple hue, her hair sticking to her face. She drops all of the prune juice cans in her hands on the ground in shock, hands coming to her face to wipe the juice from her eyes.

"What. Was. That?" Her eyes open to reveal angry hazel irises, ones that are glaring right at me.

I give her a sheepish smile, shrugging my shoulders. I drop the new empty can at my feet, slowly backing away from her because I know she is going to retaliate.

"You are going to pay for that," she hisses, each word dripping with venom.

"What are you going to do about it?" I quip, trying to sound nonchalant.

She swipes one of the cans that has rolled across the porch, takes off its top, and spills it on the top of my head, staining my black shirt a weird brown color. But more importantly, my hair is now dripping wet.

"Hey!" I exclaim, shaking my head to shake off the juice now running down my neck.

"Ha. Now we're even," she says triumphantly, dropping the empty can to the ground.

I bend and pick up another can, saying, "I don't do 'even'." Then, I pour all of the juice on her head, making her shirt turn completely purple.

She takes another can from the ground and dumps all of the can's contents on my head, drenching me from top to bottom. And thus, we start a prune juice fight.

At least twenty minutes later, I can feel juice pooling in the soles of my shoes and my skin and shirt stuck together, both completely sticky from the dried prune juice. My hair is stuck up at weird angles, my face probably colored a weird pink-purple.

"Well, I guess I can check that off of my bucket list," Nina says quietly.

I glance at her, noticing that she looks really similar to me: hair tinged pink, clothes colored purple, skin stuck to clothes because of the sticky juice.

She looks back at me, a sardonic grin on her face. "I never thought I would ever have a juice fight, never mind a _prune_ juice fight."

I chuckle, shaking me head. When I hear one of the cans open, I see her raising the can to try drinking some of it. I am _so_ tempted to tip over the can while she is trying to drink it, but I hold back, just wanting to see her reaction. After she lowers the can from her mouth, she has on a sour expression as she tries to swallow it.

She scowls at me. "Why on earth do you like this stuff? It's horrible!" she says.

I smirk at her. "I don't."

Her eyes widen in understanding. "Wait . . . _You tricked me into drinking this crap?_"

"I didn't trick you. I just said I liked it, I didn't say I actually enjoyed drinking it."

I think she is going to scream at me or something, but instead, she laughs. I contemplate the idea of the prune juice driving her crazy, which makes me happy that I didn't drink any of it.

"I c-can't . . . be-believe you got . . . me t-to drink it!" she laughs.

"I can't believe you're laughing about it," I say, beginning to laugh with her. For some reason, I can't help it - her laugh is infectious.

While we're laughing, I notice that the door is slowly opening, illuminating us in a warm, yellow light, dyeing us a weird orange-brown color. I have to squint my eyes for a minute as the bright light engulfs us, since I was so used to the diluted light filtering through the windows.

"Hey guys, what are you doing out here- Oh my god! What happened?" Mara exclaims, mouth hanging open in an "o" of shock.

"Just had a little fun," I say.

I see Nina grin in the corner of my eye, but it drops as soon as we Nina's grandma comes into view. She looks us over, tuts in disapproval, and takes us away by the arms. She calls over her shoulder, "Please pick up those cans for me."

Nina's grandma leads us to the side of the house, where a hose sits in a neat green circle, a silver nozzle at one end. She hands me the hose, points at the outdoor faucet that connects to the hose, and says, "You do know how to use this, don't you? I think you can do this without too much trouble?"

Nina and I nod, hanging our heads in guilt. The grass rustles as she marches away, and once we hear the noise almost disappear, we lift our heads and glance at each other.

"Do you wanna go first, or . . . ?" I offer, gesturing to the hose.

"What?" she says.

I spray her with the hose, and she yelps in surprise. I laugh, but she grabs my hand and turns the hose on me. I scamper away from the water's reach, but realize that in my haste, I dropped the hose. I see her pick it up, and my eyes widen. I slowly back up, but she showers me in water, making me gasp from its freezing temperatures.

I try to run away from her, but don't realize that the house is on sloped ground, so I tumble over myself. And apparently Nina hasn't been to her house in a while because she also falls head-over-heels and onto her side beside me. As we fall, the hose flies in the air, drizzling water onto the ground, and then lands with a thud on the grass behind us, still trickling water from the nozzle.

"I think we're pretty clean now," I observe.

"Yeah, I think so," she agrees.

* * *

Yes, you can tell I ran out of ideas when I said "prune juice"... Review and let me know if any of you like prune juice. :D

Thank you so much for your reviews. You're all so amazing and sweet. I honestly do not deserve any of you reading reviewers... (:

Please review, even though this chapter really doesn't deserve it...

~Ary


	6. Chapter 6

Footsteps hurry across the floor as Fabian, once again, rushes to the bathroom. I raise one of my eyelids, seeing the open door revealing a shaft of light from the bathroom where more puking can be heard. I smack my hand against my phone, lighting up the screen. I raise my head just enough to check the time.

3:48 AM. Almost. Four. In. The. Morning.

I groan, pulling my blanket over my head to try and block out the sounds of my sick roommate. But nothing changes. If anything, he sounds even louder than before, making my stomach form into a tight knot.

Yeah, despite my calm, and cool demeanor, when I hear people throwing up, I begin to feel a bit squeamish.

I yank the covers off of my couch bed, storming out of the room and toward the kitchen. Opening the fridge, I see that it's full of uncooked food, or healthy crap. Great. I close it in annoyance, shaking my head and craving some sort of fried/sugary stuff.

But I catch a sound outside. It's so soft, I think I imagine it at first. Then I hear it again, and I know it's real. It's . . . strumming? Turning the knob, the door opens a crack, and I see a wave of long golden-brown hair on the figure of a guitar-strumming girl, sitting on the porch's bench.

"Couldn't sleep?" I ask.

The sweet strumming abruptly stops as she hits a wrong note, giving off a really sharp note that literally screeches in my ears. She yelps and almost drops her guitar on the ground, then whirls around to face me, shooting me a glare.

"Dammit, Eddie," she whisper-shouts. "You almost made me drop my guitar!"

"Little jumpy, are we?" I say, wryly.

She puts a hand to her heart, still shooting me a glare, like she's trying to calm her breathing. I chuckle, sitting beside her on the bench. But the crinkle of paper underneath me makes me stand up to pick up the notebook I just sat on.

Scanning over the page, it's covered in scribbles, scratched-out words, and arrows pointing this way and that. I can barely read it, only making out a few discernible words. I raise my eyebrows, looking up at Nina, who is still fuming at me.

"Having a little trouble writing?" I question.

She snatches the notebook from my hands, blushing red. "It's none of your business, thank you very much."

"So why're you up so late?" I say, giving her my full attention.

Her face contorts into a troubled expression. She shifts away from me, curling her legs under her and beginning to softly play the guitar again. "It's none of your business," she repeats.

I hold up my hands in surrender. "Sorry, sorry. Just curious. It looked like you had something on your mind, and I thought you might wanna talk about it-"

"All right, all right! I'll tell you," Nina gives in.

I grin. _Reverse psychology. Works every time._

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. Turning her hazel irises to me, she says, "What's the secret everyone is keeping from me?"

Raising an eyebrow, I give her a look. "That is not what you want to talk about," I state bluntly.

"Yes, it is," Nina insists.

I don't change my expression. Nina and I have a staring contest as she tries to convince me that that's what is troubling her. But I know better. I don't know _why_ I do; I just have this feeling that she's lying to me.

"Eddie, it is. I'm not lying. I want to know why everyone's whispering, and that when I come in, they pretend they were doing something else. Even though I was _just_ there."

"That may be part of it, but it's not the whole truth," I counter.

Her face now flushes with anger. "How do you know when I'm lying and when I'm not? You don't know me!"

I'm not fazed by her outburst, in fact, I laugh out loud. This, of course, makes her even angrier. I say, "Nina, have you ever been told that you're a terrible liar?"

She bites her lip, glancing at her guitar once more, only confirming my theory. She mutters, "Yeah. Why?"

"It's the truth. You _are_ a terrible liar."

"Thanks."

"No problem."

Nina sends me a look, which I ignore, and then goes back to strumming. Suddenly, an idea strikes me, and, when she's not looking, I steal the notebook away from her once more.

"Hey!" she cries out.

I shush her. "Be a little more polite, Nina. People are trying to sleep, you know."

She rolls her eyes. Though she tries to hide her smile, it's plainly obvious that she thinks my comment is funny. I read over the words, and am a little puzzled.

"One, you have terrible handwriting," I remark.

"Shut up."

Continuing to read, I'm really puzzled. "What is this, a song?" I think aloud. Flipping the page over, I see more lyrics, and a side note saying: "Deadline - July 5th. Must be ready for Fabian's birthday."

"Ah, so this is a birthday present, hmm?"

"Yes, it is. Now that you know, you better not say anything to anyone."

"Who else knows about it?"

"Only you and Amber-" She slaps her forehead and groans.

"Nice going. Amber is definitely going to keep quiet about that."

"She's my best friend. She'll keep my secret."

I scoff at her wishful thinking. "Yeah. Definitely."

"So why are you out here?" Nina asks.

"Can't sleep."

"But you sleep in the softest bed in the house!" I'm not sure if that is supposed to be sarcasm or she really means it.

"It's a futon."

And then we burst out laughing. I'm not really sure why it is so funny, but we just laugh and laugh anyway. I notice a flash of brown in the window that looks out onto the porch from the kitchen, but don't think it's anything but a shadow.

Little do I know that I'm going to regret this in the morning.

. . .

~Nina's POV~

Going up the stairs, I smile fondly at last night's conversation with Eddie. It really made me laugh. I am still suspicious of them, though. There's something they're not telling me, but I cannot quite put my finger on it.

Opening the door to my room with my free hand, clutching my guitar and notebook in the other, I walk into my room to see Amber still sleeping. Well, I guess I'm not surprised, really. I bet it is barely seven in the morning, and Amber treasures her "beauty sleep."

I close the door behind me, but it squeaks loudly. I curse, knowing that Amber is a light sleeper, so the sound must have awakened her. My theory is only confirmed, when she says, "Nina?"

I plant a smile on my face, raising my head to look up at her. "Yeah?"

She eyes my guitar. "Did you just wake up?"

"Yeah," I lie.

Amber raises an eyebrow, probably easily seeing through my lie. "Then why are you carrying your guitar?"

"Uh, because I practiced the song downstairs, just a few minutes ago." _That isn't _totally_ lying_, I tell myself, hoping that she believes my white lie.

My BBF still does not appear to believe me. "Right. Have you checked on Fabian, yet?"

I place my guitar on my bed, along with my notebook, its pages splaying open and revealing the scribbles of my song, or whatever is left of it. I silently thank her for the excuse, and add, "No, I haven't! Thanks for reminding me!"

I rush out of the room, closing the door behind me, but then fall over myself, letting out a small yelp. _Only me_, I mutter to myself.

Apparently I tripped over my own pajama pant leg, and I grumble angrily and roll it to my ankle so that it never happens again. But then, I hear Amber whispering, probably into her phone, through the crack of the door, which stops me in my tracks.

"We have a dilemma. Meet me at the usual place, at noon."

Determined to find out what is really going on, I mark the time on my mental schedule, and then hurry downstairs to see how Fabian is doing.

* * *

Aggh... Terrible and fluffy. You may be wondering where on earth Patricia is in this craziness... And I say she will be back in the next chapter!

Yeah, no ingredients for hoagies for Eddie in the fridge... Tragedy, right?

Please review, and I'll try to get the next chapter up by tonight... Pwease?

~Ary


	7. Chapter 7

...

Please, oh please, forgive me, oh amazing readers... I am such a bad writer/procrastinator that I do not deserve any readers or reviews - though that would be nice. I am so extremely sorry and am groveling at your feet. Excuses aside, here's Chapter 7 - in Nina's POV - where stuff actually happens!

* * *

Opening the door, I find that Eddie is nowhere to be found, and for that, I am a little happy. Not that I do not want to see him, just that I would rather see Fabian alone. He is just sleeping there, looking so peaceful. I almost completely forget about all of the secret whispering that everyone's been doing - almost.

I hate to wake him, but when I sit on the foot of his bed, his eyes flutter open, revealing wide-awake blue irises. I wonder if he was really sleeping when I came in, or he was just waiting for me.

"Nina," he greets.

"Hey," I whisper, reaching out and touching his cheek. "How are you feeling?"

"Better than ever," he replies.

Fabian sits up, leaning against his pillows, and smiles widely. He touches my hand, leaning towards me for a kiss, but I veer away from him. I tsk, "No kissing until I know you're well."

He sighs, as I stand up, my hand leaving his face. He sounds disheartened, but before I leave, he grasps my hand, stopping me. I look back and he squeezes it shortly. Without him even saying anything, his eyes tell me, "I'll miss you."

"I'll be back soon," I insist. Then, I really do leave to go find Gran.

I find her in the laundry room, sifting through a pile of whites. The room smells strongly of detergent, the air a bit musty. Her hair is in a loose bun, strands falling into her face, and a few pieces stick up on the top of her head from the slight humidity of the room. I have a feeling that my hair is reacting in a similar fashion.

"Hey Gran? Fabian is looking a lot better. Do you have time to go check on him?" I ask.

"Sure, Nina. But first, I would like to talk to you about something."

"Okay," I say, a little confused, yet curious as to what she wants to talk to me about.

"What were you doing with that boy, Nina?" Gran says, turning to me with her hands on her hips.

"What do you mean?"

"I think you know exactly what I am talking about. I thought you were with Fabian."

My eyes widen as I piece together her logic. "Gran, are you accusing me of cheating on Fabian with Eddie?"

Gran takes a pause before continuing. "No. I am only worried about what the neighbors are beginning to think of you. Drenching yourself and the porch in prune juice? Is this some sort of stunt for attention? That is not my Nina. You've always been the best granddaughter a grandmother could ever have - I've even bragged about how intelligent and responsible you are to my Canasta group.

"But now, I'm not sure what has been going on with you. You know I am all for fun, but you have to draw the line between amusement and immaturity. I am starting to think going to that school has changed you quite a lot."

I hang my head at her first words, but then anger grows within me at her last statement. I raise my head, eyes blazing.

"That school has not changed me! In fact, I think I've grown more because I've spent so much time at that school. I've made so many friends, had so many unique experiences, even explored dangerous places where I could have gotten killed. If anything, I've become a better person because I went there. I've become a leader. Someone who is looked up to. The Chosen One, for crying out loud-"

I stop myself. Did I really just say that? I clamp a hand over my mouth, regretting what I just said. Gran does not know about the mystery, let alone about me being the Chosen One. Why, oh why, did I say that?!

Her eyes are suspicious. She moves toward the door, which I left open when I first came in, closing it and facing me.

"When did you find out?"

"What?"

"About being the Chosen One." She repeats, "When did you find out?"

"I-I- How do you know about it?"

"I know more about that subject than you think."

"Gran, please. If you know about this, please explain it to me. I am completely lost. I don't know what to do or what my destiny is!"

She smiles sadly. "Nina, that is something that you must figure out on your own. If I told you, it would change everything."

Gran approaches me, placing a soft kiss on my forehead. "About our last topic: I'm not trying to be a party-pooper, but I just want what is best for you."

She raises my chin with her finger, blue to hazel, and I see that she is really being sincere. She does want what's best for me, even if I have to sacrifice what is fun for what is smart.

"Yes, Gran," I say.

"Go on and tell Fabian that I will be there to check up on him soon."

I nod, opening the door, and leaving the room. Before I can enter Fabian's room to tell him that Gran is going to check up on him, I hear a chipper voice call out,

"Oh Niiiiiina! Nina Martin!"

I look up at the ceiling, wondering what on earth Amber wants me to do. However, before I go upstairs, I decide to just poke my head into Fabian's room to let him know that I will be back soon. But just as I am about to open the door, someone grabs my arm and pulls me upstairs.

I turn my head to the person, about to ask what is going on, when my words stop in my throat. Dragging me upstairs is Joy, a determined look on her face.

"Joy? What are you doing?"

"Amber wants you," is all she says, not looking at me.

"Yeah, but-"

"Just get in there!" she says, throwing me into the room and closing the door behind me, almost chopping off my ankles in the process, had I not moved them out of the way.

I sit on the floor, staring at the door for a moment, contemplating what just happened and why Joy did that. However, I do not have much time to dwell on it, because Amber stands me up and then thrusts a bunch of bottles into my hand.

It takes me a second to absorb my surroundings. The only way to describe it is that our room is now a beauty salon. A clothing bag lies neatly on the bed, along with a pair of heels sitting at the foot of the bed that I know will break my ankles if I try to just walk down the stairs in them.

"Go get ready," Amber commands, snapping me out of my reverie.

"For what?" I ask.

"For- A special occasion. I'm sending you and Fabian on a date," she replies, shoving me out the door.

"Wh- What?" I am about to ask how she knows that Fabian is well enough to go on a date, especially since Gran has not even checked on him yet, but she only propels me into the bathroom, closing the door behind me.

My thoughts disperse as I enter the room. I realize that it is incredibly steamy, but it smells amazing. The claw foot tub is full of warm water. Flower petals of unknown origin float on the surface, sending wonderful, intoxicating aromas into the air. The top of the water is a glass surface that reflects my confused face back at me.

I am a bit bemused, unsure of what I should do next. Glancing down at the bottles in my arms, I decide to take the bath - what's the worst that could happen? I drop the bottles next to the tub, strip off my clothes and slip into the relaxing waters. I submerge myself into the water, sighing as I feel my muscles almost melting in the comforting warmth, my hair fanning across the top of the water.

I scrub myself down with a bar of soap sitting at the edge of the tub, and then eye one of the bottles that Amber had given me earlier. I squirt some of the avocado green liquid into my hand, rubbing my palms together and lathering it into my hair.

Pretty soon, I stand up and wrap a towel around myself. A sharp knock sounds from the door as I am bundling my hair into a towel. I turn my head to the sound as I pull the chain of the plug and drain all of the water. I gather up my clothes in one arm, while unlocking and opening the door with the other.

"I see that you're ready to go," Amber remarks. She leads me back to our room, shutting the door behind her so we can talk in private. Tossing me the dress bag, she goes to the door, saying over her shoulder, "Well, you get dressed in that, okay? I'm going to-" She stops, sounding hesitant.

This piques my interest, so I ask , "Going to what?"

Amber sends me the swiftest look, then continues, "Going to go, uh, do something."

I raise my eyebrows at her uncertainty, usually she is so sure about what she wants to . She ducks her head and exits the room, leaving me with an awkward, confused air.

I peer at the dress bag on my arm, and my curiosity gets the best of me, so I unzip the dress bag. A sleeveless white dress with a rounded neckline and a flowing skirt flutters out, along with a navy blue shrug to go around my shoulders.

I am a bit surprised by Amber's choice of clothing because it is just a date, and knowing that Fabian and I will probably head to a library or a coffee shop instead of some formal gathering, I decide against her fancy attire and get dressed in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, tying my hair back into a ponytail.

My phone gives off a soft beep, and I see the alert that I had made earlier, reminding me that Amber was having a meeting with everyone else. I wonder how I am going to find them, but something catches my attention: the scent of Amber's perfume in the air. I sniff, and then nod to myself. _Yep, that's Amber's perfume._

I open the door, poking my head out to look around and make sure that no one is outside. When I am positive that the coast is clear, I slowly step outside, quietly closing the door behind me. I follow the scent of Amber's perfume, and a small thought occurs to me: _I must look like an idiot with my nose in the air, smelling my way to a secret meeting held by my friends._

The trail leads me to the living room at the front of the house, where the door is closed tightly, and I can hear voices talking frantically. I press my ear to the door, trying to listen to what they are saying. I can just barely hear Amber's high voice through the thick wood of the door saying. . . .

* * *

Dun, dun, dunnnn! Sorry, had to leave a cliff hanger here, since then the stupid doc would too long and then I wouldn't be sure when to stop it . . . And oh great, now I'm rambling.

Uh, just read it, if you're feeling generous or kind. . . I wouldn't blame anyone if this got no reviews. . .

Well, if you've read this far: thanks, it means a lot that you wouldn't just skip this part and leave the page. So, I probably should stop talking and just leave y'all alone - oh crap, I just said y'all, and I'm not even from the South! This is what watching TV starring a country actress does to me . . .

~Ary, who is trying to make a bunch of cupcakes but failing miserably.


	8. Chapter 8

~Joy's POV~

I peer through the window once more, then duck when I see Eddie turning his head towards me. I hear them continue to talk: "It's a futon," is all Eddie says, and it sends Nina into a fitful of laughter. Eddie joins along, and they are both laughing like idiots at some stupid joke. A sly smile crosses my face. Well, it looks like I have some sweet gossip just for Amber, and I'm sure she'll appreciate it.

I look through the window once more, quickly snapping a photo of the two of them laughing together. When I see the picture, I bite my lip to stop myself from squealing at the gossip that is sure to come in the morning.

Tucking my phone back into my pocket, I drain my glass of water - my original reason for coming down here - and then gently put it in the sink, trying not to make one sound. I tip toe out of the kitchen, carefully making my way back up to my bedroom, and then softly close the door.

I pick up my phone, sending the photo to Amber with the caption: "Fabina Trouble?" She'll have a lovely surprise when she wakes up. Once I am sure that the text has been sent, I wrap myself in my sheets, laying my head on my nice, soft pillow and quickly falling asleep.

Suddenly, someone shakes my shoulder, jolting me out of my wonderful slumber. I knock their hand away; I don't want to get up. I submerge myself into the warmth if my covers once more before they are abruptly thrown off of me.

"Hey!" I exclaim angrily, sitting up straight and glaring at my awakener.

Patricia rolls her eyes at me, saying, "Get up, Joy. Amber sent a text that we have a 'secret' meeting at ten."

Something inside of me triumphantly cheers and dances around at her statement, knowing the real cause for the meeting, but I am too groggy to discern one thought from the next.

"Why?" I mumble, rubbing my eyes to try and clear my foggy mind.

"I dunno. Just said to get up."

I blink, finally feeling my thoughts clear. Finally, I'm wide awake. I feel like cheering. "Let's go downstairs and get some food!"

"What?" she asks.

"Food? Things you put in your stomach to not starve to death?"

"Since when do you like mornings? Let alone eating breakfast?"

I remember my text from last night, and I can't wait to see the awkward tension between Amber and Nina at the table. Or Nina and Eddie, if something happened after I left.

"I just do. I mean, it's all so good: eggs, bacon, biscuits."

Patricia put the back of her hand hand on my forehead, her expression becoming extremely concerned. "Are you okay?"

I slap her hand away. "Yes, I'm fine. Let's go downstairs and eat."

"Whatever."

As we are walking downstairs, Patricia's phone gives off a beep, and she picks it up, reading the message. She raises an eyebrow at the message.

"Who's it from?" I question her, curious.

"Amber." She passes me a look. "You're not going to like it."

I take her phone from her hand, scanning over the message. I nearly drop the phone to the ground, but luckily Patricia catches it before it can fall. I put a hand to my forehead, annoyed by Amber's stupid party plans.

"Why do _I_ have to get her?! We don't even like each other!" I throw my hands in the air, angrily, wondering why on earth I have to be the one to fetch Nina and bring her to Amber.

"Don't ask me, just do it."

I glare at her, not happy that she's supporting Amber's ridiculous idea. But her face remains impassive, so I huff in annoyance and march down to Fabian's room to find Nina.

There she stands, the perfect Nina that Amber thinks is a god, when in reality, she's not. Just some American that was born at the right time, and on the right day.

I grab her arm, not looking at her and ignoring her reaction to her sudden kidnaping.

"Joy? What are you doing?"

"Amber wants you," I reply, keeping my eyes on my destination.

"Yeah, but-"

I am already irritated that she is still so confused about this situation, so I tell her, "Just get in there!" I push her into the room, sending a quick scowl in Amber's direction before closing the door.

I stomp down the stairs and meet Patricia by the table, where there is no breakfast. Honestly, I do not really care, I wanted to see Nina and Amber most of all. Obviously that plan backfired. But there's something else that makes me grin. Fabian, looking as healthy as ever, is standing beside the counter, spreading jam onto a slice of toast. He notices us walking into the kitchen, saying, "Hi, guys" and gives us a half-smile.

"Hey there, Fabes," I say, standing next to him and propping my elbow on his shoulder.

I can feel him tense at the contact, and I smirk at his awkwardness. I lock eyes with Patricia, who rolls my eyes at my shameless, yet harmless - okay, partially harmless - flirting. "What are you making?"

"Just jam and toast," Fabian says calmly, though I can hear a slight edge in his voice.

"So, you're feeling better?" I ask.

"Well, I can keep down more than a piece of bread, so I'd say that's an accomplishment in itself." He nervously laughs, and Patricia and I toss him a deadpan look, both of us unamused.

He goes back to spreading his jam while I send Patricia a sly look. She shakes her head at me, but I flash a wicked grin.

I turn my eyes back to Fabian, grabbing the bread and taking a quick bite out of it. "Mm, good," I smile, still munching on the bread. Then, I feel a funny tang in the back of my throat and have to resist the urge not to gag on the food. Ugh. Grape jam.

"Joy!" Fabian protests with a laugh, taking back the toast.

I use my tongue to wipe off the sticky jam from my lips, trying to hide my slight grimace at the flavor. Anything to flirt with my old crush once again. Okay, fine, I am kidding . . . I know Fabian is taken . . . with Nina. It's fine. I'm fine.

Anyway. Fabian finishes spreading jam on the last slice of toast - my god, he takes forever to spread jam! - and I see the knife is left on the counter as he takes a bite out of the slice of toast I previously bit into. I pick up the knife, watching the sticky purple jam slide down the cool metal blade. Twirling the knife between my fingers, I ask him, "So, grape, hmm?"

Fabian gives me his trademark bemused look. "What?"

"Grape jam. I always thought you liked strawberry," I muse.

"Well, I know that _you_ like apricot."

"No, mine's strawberry, too." It was _our_ favorite, I think silently to myself.

"Oh." He ponders that a moment, taking another thoughtful bite. "Right."

I take my arm off of his shoulder, leaning over the countertop and staring at the bright specks of quarts intertwined with the dark granite. "It's okay. I didn't remember yours, so why would you remember mine."

"I must've thought it was apricot from a while ago, or something."

"It wasn't apricot, okay?" I say harshly.

"JoyI can hear his voice pitch a bit higher, a sign that he is getting either irritated or angry. I knew, based on this conversation, that he is getting really angry.

He shoots me a quick look, knowing that I am insinuating something more than jam. I disregard his look, turning to look at my nails instead.

Patricia chooses to break the tension between Fabian and I, and I am extremely thankful for that. "Well, we ought to go do that thing that Amber wanted us to do, right, Joy?"

"Yeah. See ya at the meeting, Fabes." I nudge him in the side, trying to return to my usual nonchalant attitude, but now it seems forced after that last bit of the conversation.

"Bye," he says casually, though his voice sounds strained, just like mine.

We leave the kitchen, Patricia pulling me by the arm. Finally, we end up in the living room, where there are all of the party decorations set up and ready.

"What the hell are you doing?" Patricia demands.

"Just flirting a bit." She sends me a glare. I grin back at her. "Just drop it. Let's go to the meeting."

Amber winks at us as she leads us into the dressing room. "Meeting time."

Once everyone is there, there is a total of six people: Fabian, Amber, Patricia, Eddie, Alfie, and me. Jerome, Mara, and Mick are nowhere to be found. But that's okay. They weren't really a part of the planning anyway.

"Okay, so tonight's the party. Is everyone excited?"

There are a few cheers, but not as many as Amber hoped, I'm guessing. I shake my head at Amber's attempt to excite people. She needs to just get to the point without any added info.

"Gosh, tough crowd. Anyway, since the party starts at five, I want you all in here at six. Eddie, since Fabian is feeling better, you are now relieved of your duties. Fabian, I think you know what to do." Amber seems to send him a message telepathically, something that I never thought that she could do since the girl has about as much intelligence as a squirrel.

Fabian nods, getting the gist. I am still lost, though, which bugs me. I hate not knowing what's going on. I notice Eddie nod, but . . . is it just me . . . or does he look a little disappointed? Must be my imagination.

"Alright, everyone understand?" Nods and words of agreement sound throughout the room, and we all get up to leave. Amber is the first to open the door, and then I hear her screech,

"_NINA!_"

"This is going to be fun," I murmur to myself.

* * *

Forgive me . . . PLEASE. I'm sorry! Just...read. Special thanks to XXXJustMeAndMyMusicXXX for urging me to finish this chapter! I swear on my life that there will be an update tomorrow! Seriously!

~Ary


	9. Chapter 9

~Amber's POV~

"What are you doing here?" I screech, slightly panicked about the fact that she may have heard about our party plans, but also wondering why on earth she is not wearing the fabulous dress I picked out for her.

"I, um, I, uh . . ." Nina stammers out, her eyes wide. She looks like a cute baby deer, like Bambi, from that Disney movie! I just realized - Nina is just like Bambi, only both her parents get killed, not just her mom, and instead of the Prince of the Forest taking care of her, her Gran ends up taking care of her! How coincidental!

_Wait. Focus on the topic at hand, Amber!_ I chastise myself. I continue, "Did you hear anything we said?"

"N- Y-Yes, I did."

"Y-You did?" I say, now completely worried.

"Yeah, I did. I know all about, um, whatever you were thinking about," Nina lies. I can totally tell she's lying now! She reads like a book; how gullible does she think I am?

I narrow my eyes. "You did not hear anything we said, did you?"

"I did, too," she defends, though she does not sound very sure, in my opinion.

"Yeah, sure," I reply, a smug smile on my face. Operation: EBP is still intact! _"Intact" . . . I love being able to use these words. Thank God I got that "Word of the day" app for my phone, it is so helpful. I sound so smart!_

_Again, focus, Amber!_

"Now, secondly, but just as importantly, why aren't you wearing that dress?"

She sighs. "Amber, it's too fancy for me. I don't want to ruin it by getting like iced tea or something on it . . ."

"No need to worry about that, Nines," I wave her off, showing her my phone. "I have my dry cleaners on speed dial."

"They're in England and we're in America . . . B-But still," Nina protests. "If it's just me and Fabian going on a date, can't I just wear some shorts and a tee shirt?"

"Not when you're going to the Capo restaurant, one of the best places in all of California," I retort.

"The . . ." Nina trails off as she recognizes the name. "You got me and Fabian a date at the Capo?" She sounds doubtful.

"Yes, yes I did."

"What's the occasion?"

"Nothing. Just, the, um- Just my thank you for saving the world!"

She blinks at me. "Really?"

"Yes, really. Now, please, go put it on. For me?" I give her a lingering, hopeful look, and finally she smiles and gives in.

"Fine. But I will need some help with my hair, and only you can do that."

"Obviously!" I squeal.

Then, a reminder goes off in my mind. I bite my lip. "Um, actually . . ." Nina stops about halfway up the stairs. "Could I meet you up there? I just remembered that I, um, left my earring in the living room."

"Oh," she says. "I'll help you look for it."

"N-No," I exclaim, stopping her. "I can find it. After all, there's a bunch of other people in there that can help me out-" I clamp a hand over my mouth. Why am I such an idiot?!

"A bunch of other people? What's going on, Amber?"

"N-Nothing!"

"Amber, what secrets are you all keeping from me?"

"I, um-" I stutter. "Nina, please, just trust me on this! Go get changed and come downstairs, okay?"

She huffs. "Fine," she agrees. "But when me and Fabian get back from our date, I want answers, Amber."

"Will do!" I trill happily. Nina stomps upstairs, anger fuming off of her with every step.

I quickly rush into the living room once more to make sure everything is perfect. In one hour, it'll be party time at the Martin's house!

~Fabian's POV~

"Hey, Fabian? Where do I put these pink fluffy bows?" Mara asks me.

I turn from the pink bows in my hands, looking at her in confusion. I see her holding huge magenta-hued ribbons with fluff and sequins adorning the tails. "Um, wow," I manage to say after recovering from my shock. "I have absolutely no idea where or why those are here."

Mara rolls her eyes. "I can't believe Amber has all of this pink stuff. Nina isn't even this girly! If I were you, her _boyfriend_, I would put a stop to this, Fabian."

"B-But what can I do? It's Amber, a-and you know h-how she is with parties. Especially birthday p-parties," I stammer.

"Yes, but this is Nina's party. If you really like her as much as you say you do, then you'd put a stop to Amber. No matter the cost," Mara insists.

I mentally groan. She's only been in a serious relationship for two weeks, and already she's better at it than me.

I notice Amber coming inside, a content smile on her face. I steel myself with a stern expression, trying to look, er, austere, and, um, angry.

Amber comes face-to-face with me, a weird expression on her face. "Um, Fabian? Are you okay?"

"Y-Yeah." I clear my throat. "Amber, I don't like how pink you've made Nina's decorations. It's not her."

Amber blinks. "Okay."

"So, I, uh, want you to change it, to-to be more like her personality."

"Okay."

I huff in annoyance. Why wasn't she arguing? This would be so much easier if she was arguing with me!

I sigh in exasperation, all of my "strength" evaporating out of me. "Could you just please get rid of the pink decorations?"

She thinks for a moment. "No," she replies, walking off to check on the fluffy pink bows that adorn the fireplace.

I run after her. "What? Amber, please. You know that Nina will hate it-"

"Excuse me, Fabian. I think I know what my BAF would love for a birthday. Now, if you'll pardon me - I have to finish arranging the peonies in the dining room."

"But Amber!" I cry, following her into the living room.

"What, Fabian? What is it? These peonies will not arrange themselves!" I stop talking, chewing over my next thoughts on how to persuade her to get rid of all of this pink.

On the table, I see large pink blooms sitting in frosted glass vases, filled half full of clear water. Amber moves them this way and that, a concentrated look on her face, her shoulders looking tense.

"Maybe . . . Maybe we can get rid of a few things," Amber muses.

"Wait, what?" I ask, stunned at what I am hearing.

"I said, maybe we can forget a few things," Amber says through her teeth, sounding a bit reluctant.

"Why?"

"Fabian, I have reconsidered it and agree that you're right. Now help me clear some of these things out."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

Irritability is clear in her voice, but excitement shoots through me, and I say, "Thank you, thank you, Amber!"

I hug her, and Amber pushes me away, adding, "Yes, yes. I'm generous, I know. Now go get rid of those pink bows and streamers."

. . .

After about ten minutes of cleaning, Amber tells me to get dressed for my date with Nina, so as to distract her while Amber finishes everything for the party.*

When I go into my room, I see that Amber has already picked out clothing for me to wear, just like my Mum used to do when I was a child. Rolling my eyes at Amber's need to control everything, I get dressed in the black jacket, navy blue shirt and black pants, slipping on my black shoes and ruffling my hair.

_Well, that looks stupid_, I think, looking at myself in the mirror. I fix it one way, frowning at myself. I spike it up with my hands, though it falls after just one moment, leaving my hair looking like a dead slug. _I look like an idiot either way- what am I doing?_

I tousle my hair once more, staring at my reflection, then sigh and leave it how it is. There's nothing else I can do about it.

I greet Nina at the foot of the stairs, seeing her staring down at her shoes, looking anxious. I smile, seeing her long curls fall past her ears to the side of her face.

"Nina?" I ask quietly.

It seems to jolt her as she raises her head to look down at me. A smile alights her face at seeing me. She hurries down the stairs to meet me, but apparently it is hard to walk in Amber's choice of shoes because when she reaches the last stair, she stumbles and falls into my arms.

She laughs softly, her face reddening at our sudden closeness. "Thanks for catching me," she whispers.

I am really glad that the other guys aren't here to hear me say the cheesy comment that I reply with, "I'll always be there to catch you."

"I hope so," Nina replies, planting a chaste kiss on my lips.

She steps out of my arms, though keeping a hold on my hand. We begin to walk toward the doorway, hands swinging back and forth between us.

"I can't believe Amber got us a reservation to the _Valentino_. There must be something pretty special that she wants us to celebrate."

"I can't believe you haven't figured it out yet-"

"Hey there, guys!"

"Eddie?" both of us say simultaneously.

"You kids stay out as long as you want, but not too long, if you know what I mean," he says, nudging me in the ribs.

"Uh, right," I say, feeling my face heat up. Does he really have to embarrass us like this?

He ushers us out of the house, a teasing grin on his face as he says, "Now go have some fun, you crazy kids." Then he slams the door, leaving our faces in the twilight of the setting sun.

"Well," Nina begins, "that was weird."

"Yeah," I agree.

"So," Nina murmurs.

"So," I answer. "Did I tell you that you look amazing?"

"Don't be silly, Fabian. You can't even see me."

"I saw you earlier," I point out. "And I don't need to see you to know that it's true."

"Be quiet, you," Nina says, hugging my arm as she laughs.

~Nina's POV~

The Capo was fantastic. I had never been any place so exquisite, so expensive. It was like a glamorous cottage in the woods, with wood panelling, wicker chairs and warm, golden light. Dinner was delicious. The waiter gave us a strange look, until Fabian whispered in his ear, for some reason. The waiter nodded and took our order with a pleasant smile. Starting with appetizers, we each had a bowl of the "Porcini mushroom soup," which was great. For dinner, I tried to order the least expensive item on the menu, and I nearly had a heart attack at some of the prices. In the end, I decided on the "Linguini 'Cozze'," while Fabian ordered the "Lasagna 'Bolognese'. Along with the dishes, the waiter brought us tasty breadsticks that we shared. I was really glad that we could not drink, because a bottle of wine would have cost us a fortune.

But, despite my hesitation, the meal was absolutely delicious. We took a cab back home, and, annoyingly, he paid for everything. Now, we are slowly walking in the dusky evening, since he had told the cab to stop about a mile from my house.

"Any reason that we are walking to my house instead of taking the cab?" I question him.

"N-Nope," he says nervously.

"Is this about those secrets you are keeping from me?"

"No . . . I, uh, ran out of money for the full trip."

My sly composure fades away as I realize what he is saying. "Wait, you ran out of money? Why didn't you tell me? I had some that we could have used-"

"Nina, relax," Fabian tells me, squeezing my hand. I still feel terrible, though.

"I'm sorry."

He chuckles. "Why are you sorry?"

"If I had only known about it, we wouldn't be walking out here in the cold."

"You're cold?"

I immediately feel the warmth of a jacket around my shoulders. A blush colors my face, and I am glad that it is dark enough that he cannot see it.

"Thanks," I whisper, a small smile lifting the corners of my lips.

The outline of my house's windows glow brightly in the semidarkness that surrounds us. I realize how strange it is to see that the front windows are the only lights on in the house.

"That's weird," I wonder aloud.

"Hmm?"

"Only the two front lights are on, along with the patio lights. Where is everyone? Isn't it only seven o'clock?"

"Y-Yeah, b-but maybe everyone w-went to the b-beach?"

I narrow my eyes at his uncertainty, curious as to what he is hiding from me. A sudden chime interrupts my thoughts, and the bright glare of the LED screen of Fabian's phone is suddenly shining in my vision.

"Who is it?"

"Uh, no one. L-Let's go into the house." He begins to propel me by the shoulders inside the house. I am too surprised to object or yell at him for what he is doing.

"What are you doing?" I say. We go through the door, and it is unlocked. Why is it unlocked? I swear I locked it- Eddie must have left it unlocked! Oh no, is the place robbed or-

This time Fabian laughs, probably feeling my tension. He says, "Nina, seriously. Relax. Just open the door, and you'll find out what everyone's been hiding from you."

I take a deep breath, my hand on the living room's door handle, curiosity and excitement bubbling inside of me, knowing that I will finally figure out what's been going on.

I open the door and . . .

* * *

*: After he goes to change, Amber goes to help Nina with her hair, don't worry! :D

Mwahahahaha. Cliff-hanger, anyone? But you'll find out later tonight, since I'm a bad author... So yeah.

By the way, NEVER go to the Capo restaurant unless you want to spend a fortune on a dinner.

~Ary


	10. Chapter 10

Hey everyone. So this is when it gets in the T zone, so fair warning. Warning: There is underage drinking.

There. Now please read and I'm sorry if you think this is bad. ):

* * *

"Surprise!" Everyone screams in unison. I stand there, frozen with shock, until a smile melts it all away. Amber is the first one to hug me first, nearly squeezing the life out of me, but I cannot really feel anything at the moment. My blood is running with excitement at this surprise . . . for me.

"Why- How did you- Where did- Amber!" I try to say, laughing. My heart is full of happiness, almost bursting at the seams.

"You know my birthday isn't for another week-and-a-half," I tell her, after hugging Patricia.

"That's what we've been trying to tell her!" Mara says, sounding exasperated. I turn to her and embrace her, chuckling to myself.

"Well we're not going to be here in a next week-and-a-half, so I thought, why not do it earlier? We can celebrate Joy's in England, no biggy."

"Amber!" I hear Joy protest from the back.

Amber waves her off. "Anyway, it would have been too frantic to do it any later, in my opinion, so we did your party today!"

"So this was the secret?" I ask.

"Yep," Mick says from the back of the crowd, close to where I heard Joy standing.

"I'm honestly surprised you didn't figure it out, Nina," Jerome says.

"Yeah, you usually know all of the secrets," Alfie laughs.

Everyone nods or sounds their agreements. I blush with embarrassment. Yeah, they are right, I'm usually so curious that I _have_ to know what has been going on.

"I can't believe it. Thank you guys!" I exclaim.

"Now let's get this party started!" Joy screams, and suddenly the party is in full swing.

Music blares throughout the house, but is not so loud that I cannot hear myself think or listen to someone tell me something.

"Hey, where's Gran? And Eddie?" I ask Patricia.

She exchanges a glance with Amber. I look between them, saying, "Just tell me."

"Apparently something happened with one of your aunts, so Eddie offered to drive her to the airport. She says she'll be gone until the end of the weekend."

"What?" I gasp, shocked that Gran would not tell me. Then, the rational side of me comes out and reasons that she knew I would want to cancel the party and go with her, wasting all of my friends' hard work. Looking at everyone's happy faces, it seems like it was worth it, me not going. But I cannot help but feel a bit of regret that I did not go with her.

"Nina, come on. You're Gran told you to have fun while we're here, didn't she?" Fabian interrupts my thoughts. I nod. "Then let's have some fun then, shall we?"

He grabs my hands, pulling into the center of the dance floor, though we both know neither of us can dance, and start doing . . . shuffling? Something that I know for a fact is not "cool" dancing. I can even see Alfie laughing at us from the sidelines, while Amber shakes her head at our actions.

"You do realize we look like idiots," I tell him.

"Yes, but I'm with you, so I don't care," Fabian whispers in my ear.

I smile, thinking the same thing.

"Anyone want some strawberries?" Joy asks, coming through the crowd with a round of open strawberries containing something red and solid.

"Uh, what's in there?" I ask, eyeing the red gelatinous substance.

"Jelly shots," Joy states simply.

"Aren't those alcoholic?" Fabian wonders aloud, picking up one of the strawberries and examining it.

"Not these!" Amber interjects, snatching one from the tray. "They are so good! I absolutely adore strawberries, and I hear they are so good for you, too!"

Fabian and I exchange glances, both of us wondering if they were telling the truth. She shrugs, saying, "It's a party, and Gran _did_ say to have fun. Pass me one of 'em!"

I bite into one of them, feeling the sweet Jello ooze onto my tongue. It's delicious. Pure strawberry floods my taste buds, along with a weird, burning tang at the back of my throat.

"Tastes like it has alcohol," Fabian mutters, frowning down at the half-eaten strawberry.

"Probably some weird aftertaste," Joy says quickly, though in a nonchalant tone. I'm too busy savoring the taste of these strawberries. "Those jelly packets always taste strange."

I finished off my strawberry, licking my lips, wanting to appreciate the deliciously sweet flavor. They are really tasty. I pick up another one, careful to keep my palm underneath it, just in case some juice spills onto the white dress.

"Fabian?" Joy offers the tray.

"No, I'm good. Not the biggest fan of jelly shots," Fabian says. I can now hear an edge to his voice, but it is hard to sort out why.

"Suit yourself," Joy shrugs. She continues on through the crowd.

"Any reason Joy's now the hostess of the party? I thought that was Amber," I say.

"Amber's probably discussing the details with Alfie about how well her party looks."

"Even though it was all you guys." I give him a quick hug. "Thank you, Fabian."

"Hey, I only did a little, Amber had me distracting you for most of the time. You should thank everyone else."

"I will." My ears pick up a quick beat from the music. I dust off my hands, away from my dress, and then pull Fabian back to the dance floor. "After we dance!"

. . .

Fabian left me by the punch bowl to go find something. A present or something, maybe? I don't know. Luckily, the tray of strawberries was sitting on the table next to me, and there was one with my name on it!

After I finish munching the jello shot, my face starts to feel warm. Oh no! Am I allergic to gelatin or something? Then, I rationalize that that is stupid: if I was, the first jello shot would have triggered the allergy, not after three.

I brush aside my worries, for once, and see three of my housemates strolling onto the porch with a strange-looking bottle in their hands.

My curiosity gets the best of me, as usual, and I start to follow them. Fabian'll find me eventually, right?

"Hey guys!" I call to them.

They all turn, and I see Joy sneaking the bottle of whatever behind her back as she turns to me with a smile. Joy, smiling at _me_? What is this, Crazyland?

"Hey Nines," Patricia says calmly.

"Where are you going?" I ask.

"Outside. Bit stuffy in here, y'know?"

"Yeah," I agree. "Can I come?"

They all exchange glances, each one of them sly and conniving. Finally, Mick answers for the group,

"Sure. Ever had vodka before?"

"V-Vodka?" I repeat.

"Yep. We're gonna play a game. Up for it?" Joy asks.

"Uh, I, uh . . ." I stammer, not exactly sure. My brain does not seem to be working right at the moment, which is a problem because I need to figure out if I want to drink illegally and have fun at a party, or be the spoil sport who says no and walks away.

Joy's eyes flash. "Oh, c'mon. You're not chicken, are you?"

"Joy!" Patricia elbows her best friend in the ribs. "Peer pressure much?"

"It's ultimately her choice," Joy replies. "And we're not really 'peers,' so I'd say this is more of 'strong suggestion.' Nina, it's fun. Live a little. This _is_ your party, after all."

"Yeah, but . . ."

"Great," Joy says, grabbing my wrist and pulling me along.

"Will we be caught?"

"If we do, I'll take the blame." Joy passes me a quick smile, assuring me that everything'll be taken care of.

We end up in my room, not the most reassuring place to not be caught, in my opinion, but everyone else has apparently done this before, so I was not one to be talking.

"Okay then, Nina. Ever played Never Have I Ever?" Joy questions me.

"Of course she has, ya dingbat. Everyone has," Patricia insists.

"Actually no," I say.

"Good then, you'll learn from the best!" Joy says happily. "Mick, could you explain the rules, please?"

As Mick tells me how to play, my eyes keep darting back to Joy, who opens the bottle of vodka, places it in the center of our little circle-square-thing. She closes the door of my room, then comes back to our group and sits down.

"All done?" she questions.

"Yep. Nina knows pretty much everything there is to know about Never Have I Ever."

"Perfect. Now, let's start." We all hold up ten fingers. "Remember guys," Joy adds. "Make it as dirty as you want." I gulp, knowing that I'm going to the virgin dove here in a sea of dirty pigeons.

Patricia grins, holding up ten fingers. "Alright guys, I'll start. Never have I ever . . ."

~Eddie's POV~

I sit in the front seat, my hands at ten and two on the wheel. Mrs. Martin is sitting in the back, a large purse clasped in her hands, the knuckles almost white with the tension.

I swiftly glance at her, asking, "Are you okay, Mrs. M?"

She lifts her head to look at me, blue eyes shining strong and bright. "Yes, I'm fine, Osirian." I freeze at her last word.

She says it so relaxed and nonchalant and that only makes it worse. I pull to a stop at the red light, my eyes lowering to my hands on the wheel. A huge weight appears on my shoulders, and suddenly, I feel like a hundred years old, not seventeen.

I barely utter the words that come out of my lips, but they seem to fall without my conscious thought. Weird. "How do you know?"

"It was obvious, the day you saved Nina and my china plates. I can tell an Osirian if there ever is one."

I stay silent, my eyes raising to meet the road and see that the light just turns green. I accelerate and barrel down the road.

"Eddison, is it?" she starts.

"Yeah. But I prefer Eddie," I reply through clenched teeth.

"Eddie. You'll protect my Nina, won't you-"

"Yes," I reply, almost immediately. Again, I replied without really realizes it until it happened. What is going on with me?

"-Even from herself? From her friends, her family, her boyfriend?"

I feel something twitch at the back of my mind when she says "her boyfriend," but I wave it off. This time, I know that I'll do anything to keep this promise. We pull onto the curb of the main terminal, our car halting to a shuddering stop. I meet her hazel eyes - the ones that look almost exactly like Nina's - in the rearview mirror. The weight of the words seems to shock through me, like sealing an ancient deal.

"I promise."

* * *

Yes, Mrs. Martin KNOWS. She's like an all-seeing eye. Creepy.

Please reviewwww!

~Ary


	11. Chapter 11

Oh hi there. Guess what. I lied...kinda. I'm going to update a chapter 12 as well, but that's it Unless I somehow think of something else. Then I would have lied to you all, and I would feel extremely bad for being such a mean person. ):

Anyway, I'm gonna post this and then give you the post-party. You already know what happens, but why not read? (Wink wink, nudge nudge...)

CAUTION: This is a T-chapter. Do not be angry about the one curse word in this chapter. I warned you all.

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Chapter 11

~Fabian's POV~

"Pie's in the fridge, flower in the vase," Amber says as I walk into the kitchen.

"Oh. Thanks, I guess," I say. How she read my mind, I do not know. I walk over to the fridge and take out the plate of apple pie, then picking up a fork out of one of the drawers. I place that on a tray, along with a tulip from the vase.

I look out at the living room, where blaring music is playing, expecting to see at least one or two of my dancing housemates, but there is no one there, just an empty room with loud music.

"Where is everyone?" I ask.

I notice Amber shrug in the corner of my eye, so I ignore my curious thoughts and continue to gather my things to surprise Nina with.

As I begin to walk out, balancing the tray of food and flowers precariously on my hands, Amber stops me. "Why didn't you grab the _strawberry_ pie? The entire party is centered around strawberries! That's why we made those strawberry jelly shots! And what about the rose? Fabian, c'mon, stick to the plan!"

She begins to chew on another strawberry, while I sigh, saying, "Amber, I'm really appreciative that you changed the party's decor, but Nina's told me her favorite flower is a tulip, so I decided on that rather than the rose."

Amber huffs as she finishes her strawberry. "Fine." She blinks and her face turns a bit pink. "But make sure that you bring the strawberries." She enunciates every word, as if to make sure I understood what she was saying.

I raise an eyebrow at her enthusiasm and that she does not realize that there are no strawberries left in the fridge, but I think nothing of it. "Okay. I'll see you in a bit."

I begin to walk to the staircase, shaking my head at my housemates strange behavior. I have my suspicions, of course, of why they are acting this way, but I am not going to bring it up, only to be shot down by their quick excuses. It isn't worth it.

I ascend the stairs to reach Nina's room but almost knock into Mara on the way. In only a t-shirt. With a bag of marshmallows, chocolate, and whipped cream in hand. We stare at each other, both of us fitting the pieces together.

I want to break this awkward silence, but my words come out in a stammering stream of words, "Um, uh, sorry Mara. I didn't mean to- Um, I'm just, uh- B-By any ch-chance-?"

"Jerome and I aren't doing anything!" she says quickly.

"I-I wasn't going to ask that," I answer, befuddled but turning red because I had thought of that, though I did not mention it.

"Oh, um, right," she says, blushing. "So what was the question?"

"D-Do you kn-know where Nina is?"

"In her room, I think. She walked up here with Joy, Patricia, and Mick a little while ago. Where were you actually? You were there for the surprise, but not for the dancing."

"I danced," I defend myself. "Not for long, but I did. I ended up spilling punch on my shirt, and had to change. So Amber-"

"-fretted over what you should wear. Yeah, I get it." Mara nods.

We stand there in an awkward silence, not sure what to do next. I glance at the apple pie, seeing one of the apple pieces slide out of its crust. I decide to break the silence once more because I do not want Nina to wait long for her pie.

"Well, I'd better get going," I say.

"Oh, r-right," she says. Mara moves out of the way for me, and I pass her on the way up.

When I finally arrive at the door of Nina's room, I hear a lot of loud talking inside. I groan as the hope that Nina is alone in her room slips away. Cannot be Amber: she's downstairs. Mara is with Jerome and they are . . . occupied with each other, for lack of a better word. Mara did say that Mick, Patricia, and Joy went up there with her a while ago . . .

"Joy," I groan, preparing for the worst. What has she made Nina do now? Jump around in just her shirt? Spread cheese on her head and sing to a stupid One Direction song? But what I find when I open the door is so much worse.

Nina's face is bright red as she waltz around the room, dancing with an empty vodka bottle like it is a real dance partner. She sings some stupid One Direction song; my sister's constant, obsessive stream of information tells me it is "One Thing." On top of everything, she has cheese on her head and is wearing her dress, though it is completely stained with unknown liquid.

She spins and sees me, a huge smile breaking across her face like I was the birthday present she had been waiting for. Or maybe it was the pie she was looking at? Or the flower?

"Fabian!" she drawls, her words stringing together as she teeters over to me. Throwing an arm over my shoulder, I am instantly assaulted by the strong stench of alcohol on her breath.

My fury ignites when I see Joy's smug face. I gently slip Nina's arm off of my shoulders, pointing an accusatory finger in Joy's face.

"This is your fault, isn't it?" I hiss angrily. She merely shrugs and grins even wider.

"It was mostly for fun. Nina is _hilarious_ when she is drunk," Joy says, though I can hear her slurring a bit as well.

"I can't believe you would do this, Joy! And on Nina's birthday, too!"

Joy shoots unsteadily to her feet, holding the wall for support but not needing it in the end. She glares at me, her eyes still bright and alert, despite the however-many-glugs of alcohol she has had in the last hour or so.

"Excuse me, Fabian, but it is technically my birthday, too. For God's sake, we share the same birthday! And no one seems to realize it! Everyone just cares about loving, caring, brilliant Nina!" Joy shouts. "No one wants to talk about or even look at poor, lonely Joy. Oh no, no one cares about her! She might as well be a part of the wallpaper for all the attention she's getting around here!"

"So this is why you did this?" I laugh bitterly. "To get attention and have a good laugh? Is that how much you've changed?"

Joy seems to ponder the question for a few moments, then shrugs once more. "It _is_ a party, after all. What else do you expect?"

"And be_sides_, Fabes," Nina mumbles in my ear. I feel the weight of her arm against my back again, her lips at my ear. I cringe at the wet, hot breath against my skin. All of the other guys would probably think about how hot it is, but I am more concerned about the reasons why she is acting this way.

"It's _so_ fun to drink. I _neeeever_ knew it was _this_ fun," she slurs. "Have _you_ ever had a drink before?"

"No, I haven't. I'd prefer to be of age, like _you_ encouraged me to do, Nina. We both told ourselves we'd wait until we were at least eighteen. But apparently having fun was of more importance to you."

"B-But Fabian," Nina whines. "It is _so_ fun . . . Why are you being so _mean?_"

"Nina, come with me. Let's get you some water, so you won't have a hangover in the morning." I shoot a glare at everyone else in the room as I take her wrist in my hand, tugging her to the door, hoping her head will be a bit clearer once she gets some fresh air.

"No," she mutters.

"C'mon Nina," I urge.

"No!" she says, louder. She pulls her wrist out of my grasp, making me stumble back a bit.

"Stop being a party poop," Nina grumbles, crossing an arm in front of her chest and putting the bottle to her lips, even though there was nothing left inside of it.

I am too annoyed to correct her: "party _pooper,_" but I sigh and try to reason with her.

"You don't want to be sick in the morning, Nina," I rationalize.

"Yeah," she agrees, taking the bottle out of her mouth. I hold out my hand, hoping she will willingly come along with me. "But I wanna have fun . . ."

"Nina," I start.

"I wanna be _wild and free!_" She dances around the room, squealing loudly like Amber at a shopping sale.

I grab her by the arm, gripping it tightly and pulling her out of the room. "Nina, seriously. I don't want you to get any sicker than you will be in the morning."

"But it's dark out, it's not morning. I can have _fun!_"

I groan. I try to steer her towards the door by the shoulders, but apparently she has enough sense to avoid my grasp and races out of the room.

"Nina!" I exclaim, praying that she isn't so incoherent that she falls down the stairs.

I follow her and am slightly relieved that I see her racing down the stairs. I am also worried that she will go outside and run into the road, or something horrible will happen if she leaves my sight.

After five minutes or so of searching outside, I come back into the kitchen to see Amber and Nina swaying back and forth, singing another One Direction song.

"Amber?" I exclaim, disbelief coloring my voice. "You as well?"

"Fabian," she begins. She plucks the last strawberry from the tray, putting it right in my face. "You _need_ to try these . . . They _are so good_ . . ."

"Not you, too," I grumble. "Nina, come on, don't be ridiculous. Please, come with me."

"No," she pouts.

I grab her by the legs and pick her up, bridal-style, while she screeches and thrashes in my arms.

"Put me down!" she shouts at me.

I stay silent until we reach the porch. I slam the door behind me with my foot, continuing down the stairs, and moving towards the hose on the side of the house.

I finally plop her back down on the ground. In the back of my mind, I hope she does not twist an ankle from her fall. She curses at me and holds the wall for support while I unravel the hose from it's container; turning the knob to high.

Then, I aim the hose at Nina, spraying her with icy cold water.

She screams, trying to shield herself with her arms to no avail. After a few moments, I turn the water off and face her, a stern expression on my face.

"What. The. _Fuck._ Was. That?" she spits at me, water spluttering from her lips. I can see that she is barely slurring her words now, but I can tell that her mind is still fuzzy. Her hazel eyes are still bleary like she has just awoken from a nap and was still groggy.

"I was hoping the water would wake you up a bit," I say calmly.

"Well, it _did_. And it was _cold_," she says, her words sounding much clearer than before. I can feel a cool wind against the skin of my neck, and, to me, it makes the evening heat nice and bearable. Nina, freezing cold, must be feeling a bit differently, however.

"I can't believe you would do that, Nina," I say.

Nina glares at me, hands rubbing her arm to create some warmth in her body. I have to fight the urge to come up and wrap my arms around her shoulders to warm her up. _I cannot be weak about this_, I tell myself. "Don't be so disappointed, it's not cute," she sneers.

I raise my eyebrows at her tone. "What's happened to you?" I say, surprised.

"I had fun, for once in my life. Real, teenage fun. You should try it sometime," she shoots back.

I have to swallow a lump in my throat before I continue. "If you're going to have 'fun'-" I form quotations with one of my hands. "-like this, I don't think we should be together."

Nina raises her head, eyebrows raised but not looking very upset. "_You_ are breaking up with _me?_"

I nod. "Yeah. I am."

"Well, fine! Like I even give a fuck, Fabian!" she yells at me.

I only shake my head at her profanity, knowing that this Nina, this "fun"-loving Nina who wants to drink at parties and dance like a lunatic - this is not the Nina I care about, and, why not - let's just say it, love. I can't be with her.

I drop the hose at her feet and wake off, wishing that this was all just some crazy dream that I would wake up from in the morning.

* * *

Well, that was fun.

Okay. So last chapter or something is on its way. Jeez I am a weird author. When I get depressed and say, "Oh I give up blah blah" OF COURSE I COME UP WITH ANOTHER CHAPTER!

I mean, what the- Why does that-

-deep breath-

See ya in the next, maybe last, chapter...

~Ary


	12. Chapter 12

[Warning: Eddie likes to swear. A lot. You have been warned.]

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~Eddie's POV~

I come home at around one in the morning, and as I trudge through the door, my eyes droop from the impending need of sleep. I hear the music still going on, and I blink, wondering why the hell Nina hasn't told everyone to go to bed. She seems like she would be that bossy, goody-two-shoes sort of person. Maybe she got that bossiness from Patricia . . .

A loud rumbling sounds from my stomach, changing my direction from the bed to the kitchen. Anything would be good enough - I just need food.

On my way there, I see Amber's pink bow next to one of the guys' rooms, hearing gross noises coming from the room. I shudder; I do _not_ want to think about what is going on in there.

I see the tray of those strawberry things is empty, scattered with little globs of red Jell-O in random places. Aw, I wanted to try one of those.

I open the fridge's door, looking for anything really edible. Seeing nothing but a chicken salad, I pull that out and look for some sort of sauce. A bottle of ketchup sits in one of the side drawers, and I ponder the option for a moment. I shake my head, knowing that I would probably get sick if I did that. Then, I see a container of salsa in the corner of the fridge, and I pull that out, thinking it was better with the salad than the ketchup.

I eat all of the chicken that is scattered throughout the leafy greens, then drench the entire salad in the salsa. I pick up a fork from the silverware drawer (yes, I do have some class, mind you. I don't just eat with my hands like you probably think I do) and begin to eat.

It's not the best - hell, it's fucking _salad_, it's not supposed to taste like a chocolate sundae - but it's not the worst. It does fill me up somewhat, enough to sleep on. But I know I am going to eat ten pounds of food in the morning, just to be ready for the day.

I drop the fork in the sink, throw the empty containers of salad and salsa into the trash can in the corner, then I go to my room. I fall onto the futon, my face buried in its itchy fabric. I honestly don't care, though, because within a minute, I'm asleep.

Within what feels like only five minutes, my sleep is over, and I'm wide awake. Dammit. I raise my phone to eye level, hitting it's power button to check the time.

8:20am. Fuck. Four more hours, please.

I try to close my eyes and sleep more, but to no avail. There is this weird feeling in me that isn't letting me sleep. _Why can't it just wait until noon?_ I silently complain, but I get up, noticing Fabian sleeping on his bed with a frown and worry lines creased on his face. Mick's bed is still messier than mine, but he's not in it. I suppose I should worry about where he is, but the nagging feeling comes to the forefront of my mind.

I run my hand through my hair, my spiky hair stuck up at odd ends. Probably should take a shower . . . Eh, I'll do it later. I walk outside to the living room, hearing the music still playing from last night. I shut off the stereo system; I'm probably the only one who can turn it off, since I am actually awake.

Looking around, I see that most of the decorations are still intact, if only in a little disarray. The only thing that needs some cleaning is the kitchen and the stairs.

Speaking of stairs, there is a certain American sleeping on the first step, still wearing her now-stained white dress from the night before.

My first instinct is to smirk and chuckle. I can only imagine what happened with her last night. She was probably completely hammered, and I can only imagine the terrible hangover she has right now. I approach her, treading carefully so as to not jolt her awake. "Nina," I say quietly. I shake her shoulder gently. "Nina," I repeat.

"Mm," she mumbles. Her hair falls in this really nice way, cascading over her bare shoulders and down her back in a golden wave. I shake my thoughts away, seeing her eyes open to reveal those mesmerizing hazel irises. Mesmerizing . . . ?

"Eddie?" she croaks in confusion.

"Hey," I smirk. "You might want to change out of that dress before Amber catches you."

Nina glances down uncomprehendingly, though it only takes a moment for her to understand what I'm talking about. Her eyes widen in surprise, and she softly gasps.

"Oh shit," she breathes.

"Didn't know you cussed," I comment.

She glares at me as she struggles to stand up. "Shut up," she says.

Nina stumbles after just standing up, her legs giving out as if she is a newborn colt, just trying her new limbs out for the first time. I catch her by the shoulders, stopping her from getting a face plant via the staircase.

"Thanks," she mutters as she clutches her forehead.

"Had a bit too much to drink last night?" I say, releasing her when I think she can stand up on her own.

Turns out, she barely can, using my shoulder as a sort of beam to lean on. She only nods, adding, "I am _never_ drinking more than a glass of wine again. Ever."

"How much did you have?" I ask, my brow furrowed. I wrap my arm around her shoulders, steadying her as I lead her to her room.

She blushes. "Um, I'm not sure . . . Vodka is pure alcohol, right?"

I stare at her, stopping our ascent up the stairs. "You had _what_?"

"I played Never Have I Ever with Joy and Patricia and Mick." Her stomach growls. "Oh, that's embarrassing."

I ignore her hunger for just a moment. "Nina, how much did you drink?" I sniff the strap of her dress; it reeks of alcohol. "You smell terrible."

She sends me a deadpan look. "Really. I thought I smelled like flowers," she says dully.

"Alcohol-esque flowers."

She rolls her eyes at my terrible joke. "Sorry," I add. "But seriously, how much did you drink? And you might want to change."

"I don't know." She slips out of my arms, and sits down on one of the stairs. She cradles her head in her hands, adding, "I can't remember. I just know it was a lot."

I stand there, at first awkwardly because I am not sure what to do, then I pat her head as she quietly groans from her headache. "It-It's okay," I say. All of the easy casual touches I had given her just a few moments ago seem to have abandoned me, leaving me unsure of how I should comfort her.

"Can we get some food or something? I'm starving," she says, finally lifting her head to look up at me imploringly.

I remember my meager salad from the previous night, er, morning, and I nod. "Sure. Can you get upstairs without falling on your face?"

She barely musters enough strength to jab me in the arm with her fist, though it feels like a dog nudging me for a treat. I wince, just to sate her, and she seems smug, though I see a hint of suspicion; maybe she knows that she is a weakling?

"I'll meet you downstairs in a few minutes." She grips the railing but manages to make her way upstairs. She looks back over her shoulder, smirking at me ever so slightly. "I'll be fine."

I spare her one last look at her before I turn away, walking downstairs with my hands in my pockets. I have a feeling that shit is going to hit the fan when we get back. I don't know how. But I sure know that it will.

. . .

We walk over to a small diner a few blocks from Nina's house, called Bailey's Diner. Apparently she has been here before because the waitress recognizes her, and offers to give us each a free drink on the house.

Nina removes her dark sunglasses, saying, "Thank you, but I'll just have a water."

"Oh, you're no fun," says the waitress, crossing her arms. "You sure?" But I can tell that she is just teasing her as I note the mischievous glint in her eye.

Nina smiles. "I'll be fine, thanks."

The waitress turns to me. "How about you, honey?"

I say, "Thanks, but I'll have water, too."

"Fine. But if you get dessert, it's on the house." She points her pen at us, and it would have been threatening if she hadn't had a joking smile on her face.

She left to get our waters with a swift flip of her straight blonde hair, and I look worriedly at Nina. Her head is in her hands once more, her hair falling around her face in a veil of gold and brown.

"How are you feeling?" I ask.

"Since when do you care," I hear her say from within her veil.

"Uh- Well, I don't want Blondie over there to think I've been torturing you or something," I quip. But I have to ask myself, _Why do I care? Why did I really help her out, not let Amber just find her and yell at her for ruining her "fantastic" dress?_

_Because you're a good guy,_ a voice tells me. I laugh to myself, but secretly hope that's true.

I hear her stifle a laugh. "Ha. Very funny." She emerges from her veil, and I notice her eyes are a little bloodshot. Well, I suppose it could have been worse. She could have looked a hell of a lot worse, but she looks somewhat normal: just a girl who needs a good night of sleep.

Blondie comes back with two old-fashioned Coke glasses filled to the brim with icy cold water. She sets them down on tiny square napkins reading "Bailey's" with a smile. Then, she whips out a notepad and the same blue pen that she pointed at us before, asking, "So, what would you like?"

"Do you serve lunch right now?" I ask, glancing at the last few pages that displayed pictures of a bunch of hoagies.

She smirks at me, checking over her shoulder at the few customers in the shop. "It's a bit early, but I think we can do it for our Nina's friend. What do you have in mind?"

"The meatball hoagie," I say. "On wheat with parm, and toasted, please."

She scrawls down the order quickly, then raises an eyebrow at me. "Have you been here before?"

"Nah, I just know what I like."

"Oh, of course," Blondie says with a half-smile. She turns to Nina. "How about you, Nins?"

Nina looks surprised at the nickname, blinking once before regaining her composure and referring to the menu. She points to one item. "I'd like the cheesesteak, please."

"Alrighty, then. They'll be out in a bit." She collects our menus, walking off with a clack of her heels against the generic diner floor.

"Have _you_ been here before?" I inquire.

Nina shakes her head. "I have absolutely no idea who she is."

"Maybe she's part of a conspiracy theory or something. Or maybe she's a ghost!" I chuckle at my own joke, but Nina looks pale for a moment.

"What?" I ask, sensing alarm emanating from her.

She raises her eyes to meet mine. I don't see fear or anything but hazel in her eyes. "Never mind."

"Are you ever going to tell me about the Chosen One stuff?"

She shoots me a glare. "It's none of your business."

"Touchy, touchy," I tsk. "But yes, in fact, it _is_ my business since I am the other Chosen One."

"It's a long story, anyway," she adds.

"We have all morning." I gesture around us at the cool diner. "I don't think the house'll miss us."

Biting her lip, as if contemplating the consequences of telling me versus not, a light sparks in her eye, and she switches topics.

"How was Gran? Did you guys get to the airport at a decent time? Did she tell me she'd call me?" She fires the questions at me like we are in a snowball fight and each one is a hard-packed ball of ice coldness.

I raise my hands to shield myself from the snowball questions. "Whoa, chill. One at a time, Chosen One.

"Your grandma's good. We got there ten minutes early. She told me that she'll call when she can." I purposely omit the part about her recognizing me as the Osirion. I doubt that Nina told her grandma anything about the Chosen One stuff, so I don't need her to worry even more about this or that. Fabian would kill me for giving his girlfriend stress.

_His girlfriend_ . . . For some reason, the words sound weird bouncing around the inside of my skull.

"Oh, good," Nina sighs in relief. "I wonder if she called me last night."

"You were probably too hammered to even realize someone was calling you."

Again, she blushes. Most likely from chagrin. "Shut up."

I shrug. "Just telling the truth."

A few moments of silence pass us by. She finally lifts her eyes to meet my own. For a while, she stares at me, then blinks and turns away, shaking her head and muttering to herself.

"What, we weren't in a staring contest?"

Nina bursts out laughing, getting stares by the other people in the diner. She puts a hand to her forehead, shaking her head at my stupid joke. I do have to admit that the last few have been horrible, so I don't know why she's laughing at them. Maybe she has a thing for corny jokes?

Another moment of silence passes. God, I hate awkward silences. They're so uncomfortable. Ha, you probably thought I was gonna say "awkward," huh? Yep. I knew better.

"Why are you making me laugh, Eddie?" her quiet voice asks me, jarring me out of my thoughts. "Why did you bring me here? Why are _you_ bringing me here, of all people?"

"Well, I'm pretty sure I was the only one up. That party was something, apparently. You're lucky you're grandma wasn't home. I have a feeling she'd have a cow."

"And never let you guys come back," Nina finishes for me.

"Yeah."

"What about the other questions? Why did you bring me here? You could have just let Amber or someone find me; you could have _told_ Amber I was there! Hell, you could have gotten me in trouble with my crazy blond BBF. But . . . you didn't." She takes a deep breath. "Why?"

My words stop in my throat. I really don't know why. I want to say something snarky, like Patricia would do, or clever, like Jerome, or witty, like Mara, or even funny, like Alfie. But everything leaves me with just a confused person. Just me. Just Eddie.

"What's a BBF?" I manage to say.

"That's not relevant," Nina insists.

I sigh heavily. "Because."

She raises an eyebrow. "Are we really doing this?"

"Yes."

"Fine. Because why?"

"Because."

"Because why?"

"Because."

"Because _why_?" she grits through her teeth.

"Because," I reply smugly.

"Dammit, Eddie, just tell me!"

"Apparently alcohol brings out the swearing sailor in you."

"Fine, you don't have to tell me. Whatever."

"And it also brings in mood swings."

"You are infuriating. I don't know how Patricia deals with you."

"It's probably a gift."

"Tell me."

"It's complicated."

"We have all morning," she repeats my line from before, performing the same sweeping gesture around the diner. "I don't think the house'll miss us."

"Wow, I really _am_ annoying."

"Yes, yes you are."

I am about to give her another excuse when a different waitress than before comes to us with our food. Her shirt has most of the top buttons undone, revealing the edge of a pale blue bra and smooth, tanned skin. Her shorts barely cover her ass, revealing long legs that end in dark blue flip-flops.

I drop my eyes to my hands, remembering that I am not only with a girl, but I also have a girlfriend. I imagine Patricia's dark red hair, bright green eyes, and snarky voice yelling at me to get a grip. I raise my head again and meet our waitress' mischievous eyes and flirty smile.

"Hey, is this cheesesteak for you?" she asks seductively, only looking at me.

"No, that's mine," Nina interjects, an irritated expression on her face.

Miss Flirt over here practically tosses the food at Nina's face, never taking her eyes away from mine. I hear Nina exclaim in anger, but I barely hear her. Suddenly, our waitresses eyes are very alluring, and I'm swimming in waves of chocolate and caramel . . .

"Of course such a _manly_ sandwich would be ordered by you, handsome," she says. I can't say anything; my voice is caught in my throat. Her voice is so sweet and soothing, like a lullaby, making me more and more relaxed . . .

_Dammit, Eddie! You have a girlfriend! You have a _fucking_ girlfriend!_ I continue to tell myself, but her eyes are just so much prettier than green or even hazel eyes . . .

"I'm Cleo. What's your name?" Cleo purrs, leaning over with one hand on the table, the other hand running down the front of my shirt.

"He has a girlfriend!" Nina shrieks from the side. Again, I'm not listening. I'm falling fast for Cleo's gorgeous brown eyes that just seem to go on forever and ever . . .

"Get away from him," Nina snarls. I feel a hand on my arm. Blinking, I find that my mind has suddenly become crystal clear again. I look at Nina, seeing her glaring at Cleo, eyes glowing a faint amber, rather than her usual hazel. Her hand is on my wrist, the other touching her Eye of Horus necklace through her shirt.

Cleo scowls, her eyes narrowing. She hisses something at Nina, something that sounds completely reptilian and not at all human. Nina fires back in the same language, eyes blazing amber once more. Finally, Cleo purses her lips, as if considering whether or not Nina is worthy to take on in what would probably be a hot cat fight, but then she turns back to me.

"Sorry, hon. You're not worth it. Didn't mean to intrude. Enjoy your food." She flips her hair, sending a wave of sickly sweet perfume in my direction that doesn't seem enticing or attractive like it had before, and saunters off.

Nina retracts her hand from my wrist, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. I notice that she still presses a hand to the center of her chest, where I know that she's clutching her locket. I shake my head, trying to clear through my fuzzy thoughts of the events that transpired just a few moments ago.

"What just happened?" I groan, struggling to think through my thoughts, even though my mind is clear.

Nina is still staring after Cleo, worry lines creasing her brow. She does not answer my question, seeming to talk to herself, "Something's not right about her."

"Thanks, I guess," I say. "But remind me again, what just happened?"

"I think you were just hypnotized."

"I- What?"

She finally glances at me. "Never mind."

I stammer as bad as Fabian as I try to form complete sentences. "Bu- I mean, wha- How did-"

"Eat your hoagie," she orders.

I blink in surprise. I raise the sandwich to my mouth, take a tentative bite, and wonder how on earth I could have been hypnotized. She didn't swing a watch and take in a slow, calm voice like in the movies. She was just seriously flirting and staring at me.

"Hey, could you not tell Patricia about what just happened?" I mumble, raising my eyes to meet Nina's. She's not looking at me, but she gives me a curt nod.

"So don't tell her how you were drooling over a slut at a diner who hypnotized you with her whore-ish looks?" Nina smirks at me.

I scoff at her accusations, still chewing my bite of the delicious meatball hoagie. It's _so good_. When I swallow my bite, I retort, "I was _not_ drooling."

Nina laughs, almost spitting her water out at me. I shield myself with one arm, just in case, but then I begin to laugh along with her when I see that she has been able to swallow her gulp and is not choking and dying/doing a spit take in my direction. The mood instantly lightens, the last few minutes forgotten.

"How's your hoagie?" she asks.

"Good. Really good," I admit. "You?"

"Haven't tried it yet," Nina confesses, peering down at her untouched food. My look makes her hesitantly take a bite of her cheesesteak, melted cheese dripping down her chin. She stifles a laugh, wiping her face with a napkin while two elderly women leaving the corner booth stare at her. The old woman smiles at us as she approaches, then gives me a pat on the arm.

"Don't ever give her up, lad. This one's a keeper."

"Oh, no," Nina says, quickly finishing her bite. "We-We're n-not together." Her face is red as a tomato as she drops the cheesesteak onto her plate and takes a sip of her water.

"Really? Oh, how sad." The old woman looked genuinely disappointed. "All right then. Come along, Nepthys," she calls to the other old woman.

"Excuse me?" I ask, stopping there departure. Did I hear that name right? It rings a bell from my eighth grade history class. Nepthys was the prophetess of the Egyptian gods, and it wasn't exactly the most common name in the modern world.

"Yes, dear?"

I quickly dart my eyes at Nina, who is looking at me with a confused expression. I lose the nerve to ask complete strangers about their names, which is weird because I can usually ask weird questions like that without caring about what people think of me. But it is something in this old woman's dark eyes that glint dangerously, as if warning me to just _try_ asking about her name. Usually, when people _want_ you to try something, you shouldn't do it. It's just asking for trouble.

"It's nothing, sorry," I grin sheepishly.

The old woman looks me over apprehensively, as if wondering whether or not she should trust me with her favorite collection of porcelain dogs in fear that I would drop them when she wasn't looking.

"Very well. Come along, Nelly." She gestures to her friend, and they walk away, heads held high. _Okay, her name is Nelly, not Nepthys. You just misheard, Eddie. Chill,_ I tell myself. I take a deep breath, trying to calm the uneasiness bubbling in the pit of my stomach. Or maybe that's just indigestion.

"You okay, Eddie?" Nina asks.

I nod, turning back to my sandwich after seeing the two old women leave the diner. "It's nothing; let's just finish our food and get back to the house."

For the rest of the meal, we sit in partial silence, only pausing to make small, meaningless chatter that neither of us would remember later. Finally, we both finish our meals, and, despite Nina's argument, I pay for the meals. But, I allow Nina to leave the tip, just to somewhat satisfy her.

We walk back to her grandma's house, and that's when the shit hit the fan.

* * *

Okay, so for those of you who are confused as to how Nina is FUNCTIONING after drinking half a bottle of vodka (she didn't drink it all; remember, Joy, Patricia, and Mick were there, too!), I wanna give you the answer. I should have written that Nina drank a lot of water beforehand (at the dinner and before) and also, in the morning, and at the diner. Sorry for all of the confusion, but I just wanted to clear that up.

Obviously, Nina still has a killer hangover, but she can at least function like a person for the time being. Next chapter is Patricia's, I promise!

To all of you Hurricane Sandy victims, I know that sending you my thoughts and prayers won't really do much to help... All I can really do is send money as a donation from my little city of Somewhere-in-the-West. But still, please be careful all of you.

Love you all! Be safe, pwease!

~Ary


	13. Chapter 13

Oh hi there. Sorry for the long wait. Again, going to spare you all the excuses of my absence and late updating, per usual. Jeez, I sound really formal. POOP. There - now it sounds fine.

By the way, I never did this after Chapter 11, but I apologize to all Directioners I may have offended. It's my personal opinion (and yes, Fabian is not a fan), but I do not mean to be rude or offensive to anyone, despite my story's blatant annoyance with their songs. I'm not gonna get in a long ramble about the fact that I DO like them, sometimes, but I don't like they're hype... They have talent, but now it seems like they're just singing to sing, and it is not because they still love it. ):

Please don't shoot me because of my opinion... -shields face with hands-

Okay. Enough talking/typing. Please enjoy an interesting POV that is completely weird... GO MARA. (Spoiler alert...sorry.)

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~Mara's POV~

I awaken in strong, pale arms, my hair splayed around my face. I lift my eyes, looking through my lashes, to see my blonde-haired boyfriend groggy but still adorable. Jerome. His name makes my heart flutter with just the thought of it. The corners of his lips tilt up at seeing me awake.

"Hey there, sleepy head," he murmurs.

"Hi." I lean up and press my lips against his. With that kiss, I remember everything that happened last night. It started with a simple game of cards: "Uno," if you want to know. Then, it escalated to full-on making out, until we were left in just our undergarments. I told him to stop, not because I was not ready or on the pill - both were taken care of - but because we were in Nina's Gran's house and doing that would just be . . . gross in a stranger's home.

So, we decided to just eat chocolate and whipped cream in my room. We also played Chubby Bunny, and, sadly, I kept losing. But it wasn't awful because whoever lost would get a kiss, so it was a win-win for the both of us. When we ran out of whipped cream, partially because Jerome kept eating it, I had to go downstairs. I bumped into Fabian on the way down, which was a completely awkward situation, but I grabbed some sweets from the cupboard, ignoring the last few spiked strawberries. Yes, I saw Joy spike them with vodka while we were making them. I was going to confront her, but in all of the crazy preparations for the party, I completely forgot to do it. Hope nobody got terrible drunk and did something that they would regret.

"What time is it?" I wonder aloud.

He picks up his phone from the bedside table, turning it on and reading the time. "Nine-thirty," he announces.

"Time to get up, then," I say, wiggling out of his arms and standing up. He makes a sound of protest, earning a laugh out of me.

"Mara, we can still sleep in for a few more hours. Come here," he says, opening his arms to me.

I actually do contemplate it for a moment. Then, I shake my head, saying, "We probably want to help clean up outside. God only knows how messy everyone's made it."

He grumbles but gets up as well. I hand him his shirt, leaving me in my bra and underwear and feeling a bit cold. He eyes me for just a second, and I smile, shaking my head. "No. Go get ready!"

Jerome laughs but slips on his t-shirt while I grab a pair of shorts and a tank top to wear. I give him a quick kiss on the lips and push him out the door after he gets on his jeans. I put on my tank top and shorts, then see my mussed bed sheets and straighten them out. I neatly fold the duvet over the top of it, trying to make it look as nice as it had been yesterday before the party.

I go into the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face, then come back into the room and see the empty can of whipped cream and the half-empty bag of sour gummy worms on the floor from the previous night. I glance over at Patricia and Joy's beds, finding them fairly neat but empty. I notice Joy's phone has been left on her bedside table, and she has a message. My curiosity gets the best of me, so I step quietly and pick it up.

A message from her father, saying hi and how everything was going? I exit out of the message, only to see a picture of Eddie and Nina laughing on the porch and taken from a bizarre vantage point. Is this through a window? I scroll down and see the caption: "Fabina Trouble?"

One can always rely on Joy to make trouble for anyone. I look at who she was sending it to - Amber. Of course. I do not delete it because I want to have evidence when I confront Joy. This has gone on for far too long; she needs to stop meddling in other people's affairs and just let whatever happens, happen.

I tuck the phone in my back pocket, gather the rest of the trash and march outside of my room. I walk down the stairs to the kitchen, throwing all of it in the rubbish bin. I see a bunch of leftover trays and crumbs on the counters and floor.

I know that it will annoy me if I do not clean this up right now, so I brush off all of the crumbs into the bin, rinse the trays in the sink and put them into the dishwasher, though I do not turn it on because I am not sure it is "dishwasher-safe", and I wipe all of the counters down with a wet towel.

When I am satisfied with my job, I turn to go find Joy but face something even worse.

"Hey Amber," I say, putting my hands behind my back, feeling the phone in my back pocket burn with the guilt that I stole it.

She blinks blearily at me and clutches her forehead. "I need ice," is all she says.

I swivel around and open up the fridge's freezer to find her a frozen bag of peas. I take it out, shut the door, and I wrap a towel hanging from the oven's handle around the bag. I hand it to her, and she presses the frozen peas to her head, groaning as she trudges to the couch in the living room. She collapses onto it, then curls into a ball and says, "My head hurts."

I sit next to her, patting her shoulder and smoothing the stray hairs from her face. "How much did you have last night?" I ask.

"So many strawberries," she mumbles into couch's fabric.

I freeze, my hand stilling over her forehead to brush the last few locks away. "How many of those did you have?"

"Too many. I'm never eating them again."

"Amber, were you drunk?"

"N-No, I don't think s- Well, I have a massive hangover which is not good for wrinkles at all."

"Amber, _alcohol_ isn't good for _you_. Forget about wrinkles."

"But look at me!" Amber suddenly sits up straight, then sways as she feels a wave of vertigo. "I-I look horrible. Alcohol may be fun, but it is _so_ not worth _this_!"

"Amber, I think you just learned a lesson like a kid's TV show would teach it."

"Whatever. I'm still hurting. The kids cannot feel my pain!"

I snicker. Only Amber. "Hey," I ask, "do you know where Joy is?"

"With Mick or something. Upstairs, probably," she mumbles.

"She- Wh-?" I am a bit stunned. How did they get together so quickly? I mean, I realize that Mick got over me quickly, but seriously? Two weeks?

"Up. Stairs. With. Mick," Amber enunciates every word.

I take a deep breath, regaining my composure. "Will you be fine down here by yourself?"

"Yeah," she says.

I pick up the afghan from the couch, draping it over her so that she will not be cold while I am gone. I stand up, beginning to walk toward the staircase once more, when I hear Amber call to me, "Mara?"

I turn my head towards her. "Do you need some water or something?"

"Well, yeah, I do, but I just wanted to say . . . Thanks for the ice." Her blue eyes peer out from under layers and layers of her pretty blonde hair, and they are sincere. She's really thanking me. But I feel an undertone of something more. I wonder if she's thanking me for being there for her, being a friend . . . I brush my thoughts aside. I am over-thinking it now. She is just saying thank you.

"You're welcome. I'll be back soon," I assure her.

She answers with a small smile, then snuggles into the afghan. I walk up the stairs, still contemplating what Amber had said. She really looked sincere about her apology, and it felt like she was meaning more than just comforting her and fetching some ice. But maybe I am over-thinking this. After all, it is Amber. An apology is rare from her, so I may as well enjoy it, extra meaning or not.

When I reach Nina and Amber's room, I hesitate before knocking on the door. Who knows what they might be doing in there, I do not want to open the door to seeing them half-naked. I press my ear to the door, listening for any sounds of shuffling or movement, or even moans if it came to that, and I find nothing. Now, I do not bother to knock since it is quiet; they may be asleep for all I know.

And asleep they are. Curled together like little kittens, Mick and Joy are both peacefully asleep, surrounded by a relatively clean room only disturbed by the strong smell of alcohol wafting from the floor. I notice Patricia half-buried in a mound of pillows, her hair strewn all around her face.

Mick and Joy lean against one of the beds, sitting up with both heads lolled together as they dream. Joy's arms are wrapped around his torso, cuddling his chest like a pillow, while Mick's arms are around her waist, keeping her close to him.

A few dried tear streaks are visible on Joy's face, and I wonder for a moment if they talked about something extremely personal. Mick's face bears a small smile, probably at their closeness. Maybe Mick was her shoulder to cry on? She may be a mischievous little demon, but Joy does have faults and problems of her own; she is still human, still infallible. Not all of those issues be boy-related.

I feel a tug on my heart. Should I not confront her right now? This is so sweet, and, though Mick may be my ex, he and Joy do deserve each other, being the only one's left in the house without a couple to call their own. After all, Mick is the big teddy bear that can comfort her when she feels sad about something. He is pretty huggable.

But it would not be right. I need to confront her about this. She cannot just continue to meddle in other people's lives just for fun. She needs to mind her own business.

The two sides battle for control, fighting for some sort of dominance. Finally, I make a decision. I step back and close the door rather loudly, just to wake them up, but maybe not ruin their cute moment.

I go back downstairs, seeing Fabian walk out of his room in just a t-shirt and pajama pants. Not his usual look, which is extremely bizarre. I approach him, continuing to notice more and more strange things about him.

His head is bowed with his eyes having light circles underneath them, revealing his lack of sleep. He walks with a dejected air about him, one without hope and joy; a very unusual thing that does not happen very often. His face holds what looks to be a permanent frown, a furrowed brow on his forehead. Fabian walks over to a couch, me trailing on his heels, and he collapses onto it like Amber had before.

I see Amber stand up with the afghan wrapped around her, the ice still pressed to her forehead. She still looks miserable from her hangover, but she looks better than he does.

I put a hand on his shoulder. Before I can say anything, Amber chirps, "You look very not-Fabian-like today, Fabian."

He retorts, almost bitterly and, as Amber would put it "not-Fabian-like," "Yeah, breaking up with the girl you love can do that to you."

I am taken aback. He and Nina broke up? How? My shock is only punctuated when Amber drops the ice pack and afghan, screaming.

"YOU BROKE UP? HOW CAN FABINA BE BROKEN UP?!"

"She was drunk and acting stupid. She's not the same. Why _shouldn't_ I have broken up with her?" he spits out, each word filled with rancor. "Wouldn't you know about that, Amber?"

Amber ignores the last comment, instead saying, "Fabian, I don't care if she's not the same. You two are _Fabina_, the best couple that Anubis House has ever seen."

"It doesn't matter! If she's not the same, then why should I stay with her? That's just being stupid!" Fabian yells, mostly into the fabric of the couch so it is muffled and fairly quiet, yet the full anger of his words resonates throughout the room.

"Fabian Rutter, go make up with Nina right this instant," Amber orders, probably expecting Fabian to kiss her feet and obey her every command.

"No."

"_No?_" Amber repeats, flabbergasted.

"No," Fabian says again.

She opens and closes her mouth, but she is at a loss for words, looking similar to a fish gasping for air. Finally her face turns bright red, surprising me that with her hangover she can speak so loudly. "God dammit, _NO ONE SAYS 'NO' TO ME_!"

He raises his head to meet her faze, uttering just one word. "No."

Amber exhales, exasperated. She swivels around to face me. "Where's Nina?"

I shrug, about to say "I don't know" when Fabian chuckles, almost mockingly. "Probably with her new boyfriend, Eddie."

"_What?_" both Amber and I exclaim in unison.

"Nina and Eddie are _not_ together," I insist.

"They wouldn't even have a good couple name!" Amber adds.

I elbow her in the side. "Not helping," I hiss.

Fabian grabs a pillow from the end of the couch, puts it under his chin, and looks at the both of us. He looks so defeated, anguished, with no brightness in his eyes. "Don't be so naïve. You can't pretend you haven't seen them together."

"Yeah, but they're _friends_."

"Nina and I were 'friends' and hung out that much. Look what happened. You can't tell me that you don't believe that the same thing will happen."

"C'mon Fabian. Eddie's with Patricia, and we all know that Patricia would castrate him if he was cheating."

"Neddie!" Amber suddenly exclaims.

We stare at her, both questioning her in unison with the same confusion in our voice. "Neddie?"

"Yes. Nina and Eddie equals 'Neddie.' That is their couple name. Horrible, when you think of the circumstances. I prefer Fabina _much more_ than Neddie."

"Thanks, Amber, but that does not make me feel any better," Fabian says.

"Oh, I thought it would," she replies, looking extremely disappointed.

Suddenly, something struck me. "Fabian, how do you know Nina is with Eddie right now?"

"Because he's not in his bed. So unless Mick ate him or Jerome hid his body from me, he's most likely with Nina."

"Jerome wouldn't do that," I hear myself saying. I shake me head, trying to get back to my original point. "Besides that, you don't know that. Maybe Eddie is sleeping in Alfie's room-"

"He's not," Amber quickly interjects.

"How do you know-" My words stop as I see Amber's red face. Oh God. "Um, you're probably right. Well, maybe he's swimming? Or maybe he took a walk?"

"Yeah, a swim in the pool. With no clothes on! And my girlfriend right beside him," Fabian counters. "Or a walk down a moonlit path, ending with a goodnight kiss and maybe even something more." He sounds like he is talking to someone besides the two of us; perhaps he was berating himself?

"Fabian, I-" My voice halts as we hear the front door opening, laughter filling the hallway with joy, starkly contrasting to the mood in the living room.

Eddie and Nina enter the room, both looking a bit red, probably from their mirth, their shoulders nudging each other as they continue to joke around. When they feel the tension in the room, they quiet, eyes opening to take in the scene of the room.

We blink at each other, and, from the corner of my eyes, I see Fabian has stood up, abandoning his pillow and glaring at the two people standing by the doorway. I glance back at Eddie and Nina, trying to find any sort of connection between the two of them, wondering if Fabian's claims had some sort of truth in them.

The two of them _have_ been spending a considerable amount of time together, but they had not spoken at all the year before, so at least they're getting to know each other! The question was, however, why? Why now, during the summer, when Nina should be spending time with her boyfriend, the one who everyone in the house claims are destined to be? Eddie is definitely head-over-heels for Patricia, it's been obvious since the two first shared that first argument, and from there it has been a love-hate relationship. One of the more amusing couples from Anubis House, to be honest. How could he betray Patricia, someone that we all know would tear him apart if he ever looked at another girl in the same way that he looks at her, to stare at another girl who _already_ has a boyfriend? Honestly, some of the things that happen as teenagers just boggles my mind. Stupid hormones.

Eddie finally breaks the silence, raising his hand in a wave, also shaking me out of my thoughts, with a simple, awkward statement:

"Oh, hey there, guys."

* * *

Yeah, Mara and Jerome were getting steamy... Lol. No, not really. Anyway. Yep. That's Fabian's bitter side of the story; he's clearly upset...

(Don't give me that look of "What was your first clue?")

So, yeah. Pwease review!

~Ary

PS: I apologize for the shortness of this chapter in juxtaposition to the previous one. My goodness, I sound so intelligent in these A/Ns. Awkward turtle. Good; now I sound like an awkward teenager once more. (:


	14. Chapter 14

This is tiny, but I thought you guys deserved SOMETHING from a very MIA me... So here's Chapter 14, where the house explodes from the possible Neddie seeds occurring...

* * *

Chapter 14

~Fabian's POV~

Their laughter pierces through me like shards of ice on a frigid winter night, tearing away at every part of my barely beating heart. How could she be so happy after last night? After we broke up? I am standing here, barely able to face her, about to fall apart, while she is hanging on his arm, appearing as if she has no care in the world.

"Oh, hey there, guys," he says.

I shoot him the worst look I can muster, a complete death glare that I hope shatters him into a million pieces. Sadly, he is still standing there besides Nina, an idiotic, bemused look on his face.

"Hey Fabian," Nina says, mirth still ringing through her voice. As if nothing has happened. As if we are still together. As if everything is still perfect.

I just stare at her, my face turning into a stony mask. Her smile fades, a perplexed look replacing it. She lets go of Eddie's arm and approaches me, barely speaking louder than a whisper, "Fabian?"

Eddie has been examining me like I am some fragile card tower and with one move I will crumple to pieces. As Nina's hand is only an inch or so from my arm, Eddie grabs her by the shoulder and pulls her back. Their touching infuriates me, and I want to break his hand to pieces, crush it until it is irreparable, until he must either amputate it or get a prosthetic hand.

I hear it: the softest warning, told to Nina by Eddie, used because of _me_. "Careful. Something's wrong."

"Let go of me, Eddie. I know there's something wrong."

"Nina, seriously. He's a bit unstable right now." He has turned her to face him, trying to reason with her. The flame of rage inside of me is growing, changing from the smallest lick of fire that usually resides within me to one that is burning brightly, growing steadily as it engulfs more and more kindling - the kindling of jealous thoughts, hidden secrets, lost love.

"Eddie, stop. Let me go." Nina's expression is frustrated, and I know from past experiences that she will do anything to get her way.

"Nina, I'm just trying to help." Eddie is trying to reason with her, as if he knows that I am a bomb about to go off, only a bit more of flame needed to set me off.

"Leave her."

They both look at me. I realize that the low growl of a warning came from me. Usually I would be stunned and apologizing for what I had done, but the vexation inside of me is running through my veins at such a strong and steady rate that I continue on.

"What's going on between you two?" I demand.

Nina furrows her brow. She glances between the two of them. "Fabian, nothing. I-"

"Don't lie to me, Nina. I _know_ there is something going on between you two. It's obvious. Everyone knows it."

"What are you talking about?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about."

"Are you implying that-" Her face reveals how shocked she is at my assumption.

"Yes, I am."

"Fabian, don't be ridiculous. I would never cheat on you, especially with _Eddie_-"

"Hey, what's wrong with me?" he asks.

"You have a girlfriend, that's one reason!" Nina and I both exclaim in unison.

"Out of a whole list of reasons," I mutter under my breath.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Eddie says.

I raise my eyebrows at him, blinking innocently. "What?"

"'What's that supposed to mean' is what I said. What are you saying?" he says.

"Nothing, just pointing out the fact that there's no reason you should be going after other girls, especially since the one you're with would murder you on the spot if she ever found out," I reply, off-handedly.

"Listen, you-"

"Stop it! Just stop it, all of you," Mara cries from behind us.

"What's going on?" Joy's voice filters into the room from the hallway.

I whirl around to face her. "This is _your_ fault, you cowardly witch! This is _all your fault!_"

She stares at me, stunned. "What are you talking about? And stop talking so loud, I have a headache."

"I don't care! Me and Nina are broken up and all you care about is your _bloody_ headache from the alcohol you hid in those _stupid_ strawberries!"

"Wait, you _what_?" Amber and Nina shout.

Joy cringes. "I, um, yeah, funny story there-"

"Please Joy, tell us all about your 'funny story.' I'm sure we would all love to hear it," Mara puts in, putting one hand on her hip. She takes a phone out of her back pocket - Joy's phone, I notice - and adds, "And I think we'd all love to know why you were going to send Amber _this_." Mara flips to a photo of Eddie and Nina smiling and in, I think, mid-laugh.

Almost simultaneously, Nina, Joy, and I pipe in:

"I knew it," I say.

"What are you doing with my phone?!" Joy shrieks.

"How did you get that?" Nina asks.

Questions fly around like kites on a windy day at the park, all aimed at Joy. Then, Amber shouts, "Quiet, all of you!"

We stop and stare at her. She glares at us each in turn, only continuing her words with, "I have a hangover so much worse than Joy's that I am ready to kill all of you if you speak above normal volume. Now, kindly, _shut up._"

Amber turns to Nina, her blue eyes blazing with what I assume is anger. "Nina, we need to talk." Then, she looks at me. "Fabian, get a grip. You and Nina can talk it over later. I love Fabina as much as the next girl-" She peers at Joy for a split second, then reiterates, "Well, I love Fabina. But I _swear_ I will throttle you if you try to continue this argument." Looking at Joy once more, she says, "Now, you. Stop meddling in other people's lives. It's over. 'Jabian,' or whatever you call it, is done. Live with it."

Joy's face burns red. She lunges forward, but Mara stops her from clawing the blonde's eyes out. She manages to scream out at her, "Amber, don't tell me to stop it! It's because of people like you that I go to bed at night _crying_ because I don't know who or _what_ I am anymore! Why do I do it? How the hell should I know? Sometimes I think I'm just going through the motions, pretending I understand why I do these mean things. But you know what? I don't know. I wish I did. I wish I could be nice to people again. But it's because of people like you who call me names and treat me like dirt, it's because of people like you that I act like a bitch who doesn't care about other people's feelings."

Tears stream down her angry face, but Amber meets the glare with a calm stare of her own. "I feel no pity for you."

At those words, Joy turns and runs out of Mara's arms, out the door, slamming it shut with a loud _bang!_ Amber flinches ever so slightly at the noise but casts a neutral expression at the direction she ran. Finally, Amber turns to her best friend, saying, "Coming, Nina?"

* * *

Hope you enjoyed! Please review! Though I do not deserve it... ):

~Ary


	15. Chapter 15

Not sure if we still have to do this, but I don't own HoA.

* * *

After Nina leaves with Amber, I stand there with Mara and Eddie, each of us staring in a different direction.

Suddenly, the front door opens again, and Joy marches through it, an angry expression on her face that meant she did not want anyone to look at her, let alone speak to her, with Patricia at her heels, a concerned expression on her face mixed with a bit of reluctance. I wonder if Patricia tried to calm Joy down and reason with her, though it was to no avail because we both knew that when Joy sets her mind to something, she sticks with it and no one can sway her.

But after another moment of silence, I decide to see how Joy is, seeing as how I am the only one besides Patricia who appears to want to comfort her. I leave Mara and Amber with Eddie and ascend the stairs to Joy's room. When I reach the hallway, I see that the door is ajar with angry muttering filtering out.

I open the door wider to see Joy hastily packing her things into a suitcase, practically tossing her things into it without even a care as to whether or not they will fit. I notice Patricia helping her find her clothes in this mess that they call a room: the beds are littered with clothes, and I cannot be sure if it was like this before or after Joy began to pack.

"Joy?" I ask hesitantly.

The entire action of the room freezes at my mentioning her name, all four eyes pinpointing me in the doorway. Joy drops all of the clothes in her hands into the suitcase, and her face makes it look like she is going to run and tackle me to the ground. I am about to recoil in fear, possibly run towards the door in a most-likely futile attempt to escape, but Patricia approaches her friend and puts a hand on her shoulder, calming her friend down.

Joy exhales angrily, closing her eyes for a moment before opening them once more. She nods at Patricia, and Joy drops her eyes to her clothes that are piled into her suitcase. She continues to pack while Patricia speaks,

"What, Fabian?"

"Wh- I was just- Are you-"

"Just spit it out!" Joy screeches at me, her hair flipping back behind her as she raises her head to glare at me.

"Joy," I hear Patricia murmur under her breath.

With a last look at me, Joy rolls her eyes at me and shuts her suitcase closed. Then, she takes out another one from underneath the bed and begins to pack that one with more clothes. How much clothing did she bring? We were only staying for two weeks!

"Why are you packing?" I manage to get out.

Before Patricia can answer, Joy answers for herself. "Because, Fabian, I am tired of being pushed around like some nobody. Amber treats me like crap whether she is sober, drunk, or hungover-"

"You've been mean to her before," I interject.

She stares at me, as if not comprehending the fact that I am not supporting her. It feels like a few minutes have passed, and, finally, she just turns away. "You don't understand. It's different now. You're all different.

"I'm leaving. Might as well, since after this fiasco I'm probably going to be kicked out of the house."

"Are you going to be at school next term?" I cannot stop myself from asking it; it sort of just spills out of my mouth in an embarrassing question.

Joy meets my eyes with a steady brown gaze. Lying within the chocolaty pools of her eyes is a jumble of emotions: rage, angst, confusion, and sorrow. I now remember why I had liked her so much when I first met her; I had always been so entranced by her eyes. Despite their plain color, if one looked closely enough they would see that there was so much more to them, to her, than previously assumed.

"Do you even really care, Fabian?"

"O-Of course I-"

"You don't." Joy smiles bitterly and looks down. "I know you don't." She looks up at me again, her eyes now shining with tears. She slams her suitcase shut and lifts the two of them off of her bed. "I've already called my dad about it, and I have a flight in four hours. If you care. Though I doubt you do." She pushes past me and leaves the room. I follow her.

"Joy, why don't you just stay for a little longer? You have a lot of time to kill. We can talk about this-"

"No," she says forcefully. "I just want to get out of this house as soon as possible." She goes down the stairs with her things in hand, and I trail at her heels, Patricia right behind me.

"Joy . . ." I try to say, attempting to reach out and grab her arm to stop her, but Patricia touches my shoulder, stopping my action.

"Fabian, just stop," Patricia tells me after being silent for so long. "It's not going to work. You and I've known her long enough to know that."

I only nod as I gaze at the girl I once loved walk out the door and into the blinding sunlight.

. . .

Patricia and I sit on the bottom step of the staircase, neither of us talking. My head is in my hands while I am trapped in my thoughts. The sound of footsteps coming towards us pulls me back to reality, and I see a pair of gray Vans stop in front of me, a few crumbs falling to the floor from somewhere above me.

"Food, anyone?" I hear Eddie offer around a mouthful of what is probably a sandwich.

I roll my eyes at his list of priorities. One of our housemates has already left, and who's to say that others won't be leaving as well?

"Not now, Eddie," Patricia grumbles from my side. "Why don't you go see if Nina and Amber are done talking?" There is the slightest tone of hurt in Patricia's voice, but it is greatly masked by the snarky tone in her voice.

Apparently, Eddie can now sense the emotions and real meanings of people's voices because he goes on the defensive. "I am _not_ cheating on you, Patricia," he insists.

"I didn't say that," Patricia growls.

"You meant it," Eddie childishly retorts.

"Did not!" she says.

"Did to!"

"Did not!"

"Did to!"

The argument continues on without any sounds of stopping, and I get up, thankfully ignored by Patricia and Eddie. I trudge up the stairs, taking my time to reach Nina's room but not moving fast enough that I would interject into their conversation.

All of the anger that I had felt when the two of them had walked in, laughing, had completely dissolved and was replaced by an almost numb feeling in my brain. Why am I still so hurt by her going out with Eddie? We broke up last night. _Like she remembers that after being that drunk?_ a voice says in the back of my mind.

Just as I am about to enter the room, I hear Amber begin to shout,

"Nina, I will not let you and Fabian's relationship crumble to dust because you and Eddie have suddenly got 'new feelings' for each other!"

My hand stops before it touches the knob. I press my ear against the wood of the door, though the volume of their argument does not require me to do so. I strain to here Nina's voice because she does not seem to be yelling like Amber.

"Amber, Eddie and I don't like each other or have 'new feelings' for each other." Nina's voice sounds tired and a bit exasperated. I have a feeling that Amber has been repeating some form of the same sentence over and over again throughout this "talk," and Nina has said something of the same answer for each response.

"I agree with Fabian: there is definitely something between you and Eddie, and whether you two know it or not, it jeopardizes Peddie and Fabina! After you and him figured out there was some weird connection between you, neither of you have been the same!"

"Of course we're not the same, Amber! If you and Alfie had figured out that you were connected with thousands of past lives hanging over your head while you have to maintain the balance of the world wouldn't you be a bit different than before? For God's sake, I don't even know why we're connected. We haven't spoken one word to each other and now we're suddenly supposed to be in a relationship where he's my protector? Or is it more than that, are we supposed to fall in love? I don't want that. I want to just go back to before any of this crazy Egyptian stuff happen-"

She pauses for a moment, and the only thing that can be heard is Eddie and Patricia's bickering downstairs and my breath softly against the door. Then Nina says, in a strangely calm voice, "Fabian. I know you're there" which causes me to stumble backwards in surprise - while letting out a little yelp that sounds like a strangled poodle - and fall flat on my butt.

* * *

Angers are flaring, you see. I am a terrible author, you see. Winter Break is finally here, you see. I can actually write more and feel inspired, you see. I should probably stop using "you see" at the end of every sentence...

Yep, okay, I'm going to go. I don't really expect any reviews, but I am going to be continuing this regardless.

~Ary


	16. Chapter 16

This is a not-very-long-but-long-for-me chapter, so I hope you enjoy!

* * *

~Nina's POV~

I wasn't sure what I was feeling at finding Fabian eavesdropping. Anger that he was eavesdropping? Confusion as to _why_ he had been listening to our conversation? Relief that he finally knew my true feelings about the whole Osirian and Paragon thing?

"H-How did y-you know it was me?" Fabian stammers with wide eyes.

"I heard you," I reply.

He frowns at my answer. "I wasn't making a noise."

"Yeah, I didn't hear him either," Amber pipes in. _Thanks for being on my side, Ambs,_ I think to myself.

I hesitate before responding to him. Truthfully, it was like the room suddenly froze and I could sense everything around me. I saw Amber, or more of a glassy outline of her, and heard her breathing. Then, in the corner of my vision, I saw the glassy outline of Fabian _through_ the door and heard the soft sound of his breath against the door.

"Um, I don't know. Maybe enhanced hearing from being the Paragon?" I suggest, not wanting to give away the full reason in fear that they will think I'm crazier than usual.

Fabian's expression hardens. "Oh. Right. Being the Paragon must be so hard."

My anger instantly flares. I threaten, "You know what Fabian? I don't need to hear your sarcasm. You have no idea how hard my life has now become."

"Really. I don't know how difficult your life has become?" His voice is hard and cold, like an icicle dangling precariously from the eaves of a house, about to drop with just one wrong move. "I thought I was the one who was supposed to know everything about you? But I guess I shouldn't be surprised since you seem to be a complete stranger now."

"I don't need to tell you everything, Fabian. You're not in-charge of me," I fire back. My mind flashes back to the times when we used to argue about seemingly nothing last term, but I push those thoughts away as I try to prevent that sort of conversation from occurring. "Why have you suddenly become so controlling?"

The icicle drops. "Ever since we broke up! I saw you hanging around Eddie, and I didn't think that you would be able to get back on your feet so quickly . . ." His voice softened at the end, and he turned his eyes to the floor.

"We broke up?" I ask. I did not remember that at all.

"What?" Amber exclaims.

Fabian adds, bitterly, "Of course you don't remember. I'm not surprised that it's vanished from your mind with everything you did that night."

"_What_ night? Stop beating around the bush, Fabian, and just come out with it. When did this happen?" As soon as the last word leaves my mouth, I remember. The memory is hazy and distorted, but it is there. A rancid taste fills my mouth when I recall my actions that night. It was stupid of me to play a game with Joy, Patricia, and Mick. It was a mistake to play a _drinking_ game; hell, it was stupid of me to be _drinking_ when I was underage!

I know that making excuses for what happened is futile, but I try anyway, "Fabian, I wasn't myself. I don't know-"

He cuts me off, "We're both different people now, it seems."

I feel tears sting my eyes, but I blink them away to look at him with strong, steady gaze. _I will not be the first to break_, I tell myself. "I suppose it was for the best," I say.

"I suppose so," he replies, sounding just as strong.

With nothing else to do but remain there in that awkward silence, I ignore Amber's glare - probably because she thought I was the perpetrator, though I guess, in reality, I was - and head back downstairs to see Eddie and Patricia arguing so loudly that I think that Victor can hear them all the way in England. When I am a few steps behind Patricia, Eddie raises his eyes to mine. They fill with relief, and Patricia turns around to look at me.

"_Nina, this is all your fault_!" she screams at me. A quick look back at Eddie, and she continues, "We are done; you hear me? _Done._" Then, she races back up the stairs with tears flying behind her, pointedly bumping into me and knocking me into the railing on her way up.

"Patricia, wait!" Eddie calls back to her as he follows her up the stairs, shooting past me in a blur.

I glance back at his retreating form sadly. This _was_ all my fault; Patricia's accusation was completely correct. I continue down the last remaining stairs with my head hung. I notice Alfie and Jerome, both looking disheveled and groggy, coming from their respective rooms.

"Hey, Nina," Alfie greets cheerily, completely oblivious to all of the drama of the morning.

"Go away!" we hear Patricia yell upstairs, along with a loud slam of the door. We all look up, Alfie and Jerome's faces full of confusion.

"What's up with Trixie? Has Sweetie Jr. already screwed up their relationship?" Jerome asks smugly.

"Apparently," I say, puzzled at the added-on drama. First Fabina, now Peddie? It seems like this trip has destroyed more relationships than strengthened them.

Eddie comes back down the stairs, a crestfallen look on his face. He roughly brushes past us, and Alfie and Jerome glance at me with a dumbfounded expression on their faces that probably matched my own. Waves of heartbreak and pent-up frustration radiated off of him, seeming to color the air around him in the jumbled-up mix of emotions.

I have a weird urge to go and comfort him, but I resist it for the moment.

Jerome stares after him. "Did we miss something?"

Alfie checks the clock hanging from the wall; its face reading noon. "We only slept 'til noon!"

"_Only_," I scoff.

"Where's Mara?" Jerome wonders aloud.

"Not sure," I reply. "Maybe in the kitchen?"

He leaves while Alfie looks around curiously. I assume it is to try and find Amber, so I jerk my thumb up the stairs, and, like an excited puppy, he bounds up the stairs with a goofy smile on his face. I stare into nothing for the longest time, since I have no idea what to do next and then lean heavily into the wall with my back pressed against the smooth dry wall. I close my eyes and feel myself slowly sliding down to the ground.

The mistakes of the previous night have suddenly collapsed upon me, and my headache is back. I realize that the adrenaline that had fueled me from the moment I walked back into the house with Eddie until now has washed away. I am only left with the pounding and throbbing headache that I had experienced when I first woke up this morning.

_Has it really been less than a day that all of this drama started?_ I ask myself.

_No_, I answer for myself. _It's always been there, simmering under the surface and just waiting for the perfect moment to boil over. It's my fault for inviting everyone here; it's caused us all nothing but trouble._

_It's all my fault. Everything is my fault._

. . .

It is not until that night that I realize that Joy is no longer here. I want to ask Fabian but remember that we apparently, silently, agreed to not speak to one another. Amber does not seem very friendly, so I can't ask her. Patricia is sending me death glares whenever we are in the same room together so asking her is out of the question. That left Mara and the boys.

I walk into the room and find the two remaining couples sitting on opposite couches. Mara and Jerome are playing cards while Amber is reading a magazine with her head on Alfie's shoulder. Alfie, on the other hand, is playing a video game and appears to be really into it.

"Hey guys, do you know where Joy is?" I say.

Everyone's heads jerk up at the sound of my voice, but only one responds to my query.

"Why do you care?" Patricia says icily.

"I was just wondering."

"Don't bother wondering. She went home because she knew she was going to be kicked out after the stunt she pulled. Even though it was bound to happen without her help."

I know what she is implying, but I ask her anyway. "_What_ was bound to happen?"

She disregards my question. "You know what you did, Nina!"

"No, I don't!"

"You're the reason that Eddie and I broke up! You two've been spending so much time together that I guess it was only a matter of time! Joy was right the entire term; you ruin _everything_, Nina!"

"We aren't together, Patricia! When will you all get that in your heads?! There is _nothing_ going on between us!"

"Oh yeah? Tell me that you don't have _one sliver_ of a feeling for him, and I'll let this go," she threatens.

I am about to go on and say it, but something stops my mouth from forming the words for a split second. Patricia just narrows her eyes at my hesitation and shakes her head. "I knew it," she mutters. "Thank God we're only here for another few days. Saves me from begging my parents to order me an early flight back home."

That's true. It is only two more days until everyone flies back home to spend the rest of the summer with their families. I am not sure if that is a blessing or a curse that there is so little time left to fix all of this drama.

As she storms off, Mara sighs and drops the cards in her hand, ignoring a protesting Jerome who tries to stop her from running after Patricia. I lock eyes with Amber, and she glares at me for a moment before turning back to her magazine with a toss of her hair.

I roll my eyes at her and run one of my hands through my hair. With an impatient sigh, I say, "Amber, please, just talk to me."

She says nothing, only flipping to the next page of her magazine.

"I'm sensing some tension here," Jerome observes.

"Mind your own business, Jerome," Amber snaps.

"Testy, testy," he tsked.

"Amber, will you please just talk to me?" I beg.

When she still says nothing, I decide that it is absolutely useless to argue with Amber when she is giving you the silent treatment, so take a walk for some fresh air. The sun has already set with the last hues of sunlight still painting the horizon gold.

I walk along the sidewalk, seeing that the few houses on my street are glowing from within, the windows shining brightly in the advancing darkness. They remind me of gigantic, misshapen jack-o-lanterns that line the road during Halloween, but, because they lack a mouth, their usual, cheery appeal vanishes and is replaced with a sense that the houses, not the homeowners, but the literal houses, are watching me. Just like at Anubis, it appears that even houses, the most seemingly inanimate, most secure place in the world, can become the scariest place when darkness takes over.

I turn away from their knowing stares, wrapping my arms around myself to attempt to fend off some of the weird feelings I'm getting. _I should have brought a jacket. It's getting cold,_ I chastise myself.

Suddenly, a cool breeze, completely abnormal for this time of the year, blows over me and makes me shiver. I stop and duck my head into my chest to brace myself against the crazy gale; it leaves me feeling numb all over, as if I have been standing outside in the dead of winter with nothing but a swimsuit.

The smell of mulch is in the air, along with the fresh scent of newly-cut grass. Flowers surround me, not literally, but the smell of them was everywhere. Silence surrounds me; it may have been peaceful to some, but it scares and saddens me. There is a feeling that there is an eternal sorrow etched within everything, like even the sweetest-smelling flower is letting out its dying breath.

I try to recall why this feels so familiar to me, but then realize where I am. Of all places, my feet have taken me to the outer fence of a graveyard. The smells are from the last funeral I was at: Sarah's. My heart pangs at the awful memory. Looking into the graveyard, I see hundreds, maybe even thousands, of headstones spread around the area. They dot the grassy fields like the forgotten toys of a toddler who had been played with them but ended up throwing a tantrum.

Hovering over the trees is a luminous white orb is stitched into the black quilt of night covering the land. A willow tree hangs its leaves by the fence, and they sway silently in the now calm zephyr floating through the summer night.

A melancholy smile tugs at the corner of my lips at the calming yet depressing sight before me when suddenly, a man appears from under the shadow of the willow.

My eyes widen, and I stumble backwards, almost landing on the concrete sidewalk beneath me. I have to cover my mouth to stifle my gasp, but, thankfully, he does not seem to notice me.

His silhouette is illuminated by the silver light of the moon: a tall, slender figure with dark hair and pale, almost snowy white skin. I must be seeing thing because, besides wearing a black, neat-as-a-pin suit, where his face should be, is a dog's mask.

_Anubis._

I only whisper the word in my mind, but he swiftly turns his head to face me. His eyes glow gold, like two bright suns piercing the once-calm night. I cannot do anything but stay locked in his stare - a deer frozen in headlights.

"Hello Nina," he says in a smooth, quiet voice. Warmth floods through me, and I feel it coming from the locket at my heart. I am no longer trapped by his eyes, and and the voice of Anubis is now louder, angrier.

"Come, Paragon! I request you at my side immediately!"

I turn tail and run for my life. All I can think about is running while the same voice from before is yelling at me, _Get away! Now!_

"Chosen One!"

I barely hear his distant call, the adrenaline causing the blood to pound in my ears. _Get away. Now._

For some reason, I imagine Eddie snarkily replying to Anubis' call with something like "there's _two_ Chosen Ones now, stupid!" The thought would have made me roll my eyes and smile at another time, but all I could think about was getting far, far away.

"Nina! What happened? Calm down!"

Someone catches me in their arms, and I wriggle and strain to get free. A calming sensation comes over me, and I open my eyes to see Eddie holding my wrists.

"Nina, what's wrong?"

My breath is coming in ragged gasps, so I can barely tell him what I saw. When I finally regain some ability to speak, I say,

"Graveyard . . . Anubis . . . Dog . . ." I am practically hysterical. I glance over my shoulder, afraid that I'll see him running after me with his glowing gold eyes.

"What?" he asks, but he sees my expression and just says, "Never mind. Calm down. You're okay." He pulls me close and smoothes down my hair. "You're okay," he repeats. "You're safe."

* * *

Okay, this hug is a friendship-y hug. No serious shipping yet... By the way, did everyone see Season 3? GAH. Is it bad that I don't like Willow or KT? Maybe that's because I'm stubborn and don't like people leaving...

Anyway. Tell me what you thought of the first episode! And of this, obviously, and I'll see you all later!

~Ary, who is now exhausted because it is the middle of the night . . .


	17. Chapter 17

FINALLY. THE NEXT CHAPTER. IT HAS COME. (Don't you dare think any dirty thoughts!)

Anyway. Yeah. I swear this will be done by tomorrow. Boy Scout Swear! -raises three fingers-

* * *

Chapter 17:

~Eddie's POV~

"How did you know where to find me?" Nina asks as we walk down the sidewalk, back to the house.

I look down at her, wondering if I should answer honestly, or if she will think I'm a complete creeper for knowing where she was. I return my gaze back to the road. With a sigh, I decide to tell her the truth, sending her a hesitant sideways glance. "Don't think I'm weird, okay?"

She gives me a look. "Eddie, I've faced a society that involved my teachers and my caretaker in a quest for the Elixir of Life with a crazy guy also after the Elixir in an attempt for revenge against said-society, and he wasn't afraid to kill all of my friends in the process. Last year, a spirit, desperate to conquer the Afterlife as a god, tried to take _me_ there while the same crazy guy from the year before tried to do the same thing."

"And I saved you," I add.

She smiles wryly. "Yeah, yeah."

"Don't deny it."

She rolls her eyes. "You were saying?"

"Uh, yeah." I rub the back of my neck, trying to avoid her curious stare. "I kinda, uh, just knew."

"You just knew*," she repeats slowly, dubiously.

"I know it sounds stupid, but it was almost like some sort of instinct told me where you were."

"You get those weird feelings, too?"

We stop walking for a moment and lock eyes. Understanding passes between us, and I joke, "Must be a Chosen One thing." My words seem to hang in the silent air, neither one of us believing that it really is a joke.

"Yeah," Nina replies quietly, the silence now completely awkward between us.

We both look down at the ground, the grass suddenly becoming very interesting. I never noticed how green each blade was, how they looked like thin, little, green, French fries sticking up out of the ground.

"_Chosen One . . ._" is whispered on the wind blowing over us.

"Did you hear that?" Nina and I ask simultaneously.

A cold chill runs down my spine, and I know that it is not from the wind. An ominous feeling gnaws at the pit of my stomach, and I catch Nina's wrist in my hand, tugging her away from the interesting grass.

Searching the area for an unknown enemy, I mutter, "C'mon, let's get out of here." She doesn't resist.

. . .

"Nina! Where've you been?" Mara asks when we arrive back at the house. Anxiety and fear are slowly slipping out of Nina, but suspicion is the reigning feeling within her. I glance at the clock and see that it is nearly ten o'clock at night. Wow. Time flies when you're being chased by an evil, Egyptian god.

"I, uh, we were, um, Eddie and I were, um, talking a walk," Nina stammers out, a ridiculous story coming to her mind in order to back up her excuse. Not even needing to refer to the weird connection that we now share, I mentally roll my eyes at Nina's terrible lying skills. Maybe if she was more confident in it, she would be better at doing it.

Mara's eyebrows knit together, probably to figure out if Nina is telling the truth. Well, she kind of is ... because we did talk a walk _after_ Nina almost got killed by the god of the afterlife.

"Right. Well, Fabian was worried sick about you." She is telling the truth about that, but there is still a lot of uncertainty towards Nina about whether or not Mara wants to trust her. Weird. I always thought Mara was a fairly trustful person who didn't judge someone until there's pretty undeniable truth that gives her a reason to not trust said-person.

Nina's face hardens at the news. "Really. Probably wanted to make sure that Eddie and I weren't making out in the backyard."

"Is it so hard to imagine that I was genuinely worried about you?"

Fabian's voice comes from down the hallway. I am surprised that we had not seen him when we first came in. Curiosity about her whereabouts _does_ cross his mind, but, overall, he's more hurt at her accusation than anything. His face appears from behind Mara, looking hurt and upset, but, instead of feeling bad for him, I feel Nina's annoyance spike. Feeling her is weird, I know. Then again, it seems like I can "feel" everyone else, too, or at least determine what their feeling. But, instead of questioning it, I figure it's just another Osirian thing that I have going on. From past experiences, and movies, I know that you don't question things that you don't really understand. All it does is get you into trouble.

Nina snidely remarks, a true Patricia reply, "I thought you'd broken it off. Why should you be worried about me; we're not together anymore." Bitterness slashes through the annoyance, and the hurt that is clear on Fabian's face is reflected in Nina, though she doesn't show it. Clearly, Fabian breaking up with her is still a bit of a sore spot.

"Nina, I-I still care. I-I want us to be together, b-but-" I note his quick glance in my direction as he trails off, and, in reply, I roll my eyes. I don't think Nina is paying enough attention to him to catch it, but she does.

. . . and explodes into a rant.

"Dear God, Fabian! For the absolutely _last_ time, Eddie and I are not in a relationship! Sure, we may be connected in some ridiculous, unfathomable way that spans over a millennia! Sure, we may be up against some crazy odds that no one even knows about! The balance of the world is on our shoulders, and all you care about is whether or not we're in a relationship?! For the love of God, Fabian! You really need to sort out your priorities if that's the first thing that comes to mind when you think of the two Chosen Ones!"

Nina's rant ends with her face red while she pants like a dog on a summer morning. Fabian just stares at her wide-eyed, just as stunned as Mara and I are at Nina's outburst.

"W-Wait. What was she saying about Chosen Ones and the weight of the world on-" she turns to me "-both of your shoulders? Or-all of ours?"

Fabian meets my eyes, and, for just a few moments, we reach a truce. The fewer people that know about all this crazy Egyptian stuff, the better. Mara, as nice and smart as she is, does not need to be involved in this.

"Is this relating to Jerome's gem from last term? And when Patricia got kidnapped?" She sounds panicked now, and I'm not in the least surprised. "And what about-?"

"Mara, relax," I say, grasping her arms and making her look at me in the eye. In a calm voice, I tell her, "Don't worry about it. Just forget about the whole thing."

"F-Forget?" she murmurs, sounding puzzled. Her eyes glaze over. "Forget about . . . Forget-" She trails off, mumbling incoherent words to herself.

"What did you do - put her in some sort of trance?" Fabian hisses at me from over Mara's shoulder.

I'm blinking rapidly at Mara and her delirious eyes, as if she is looking at me but not really seeing my face, not believing that I just did that. I feel a hand on my arm and know that it is Nina.

I feel the anxiety within me uncoiling and give her a minute nod, thanking her. She removes her hand, and I take a small breath to make sure that I know what I am doing. I snap my fingers a few times in front of Mara's face, and her eyes return to their normal brown. She blinks.

"Wh-What? What just happened?" she asks.

"You kinda dozed off," I lie.

Mara looks down at her feet, seeing that she is standing, and gives me a quizzical look. "While standing?" she counters, looking dubious.

"Yeah . . . It was weird," I say, rubbing a hand behind my neck.

She blinks at me again, now dumbfounded. "Oh. Okay, then." Mara turns to see all of us examining her warily. "I guess I'll see you all a little bit later."

Mara walks up the stairs to go to her room and occasionally looks back at us to see if we are still searching her for some sort of trace of that trance she was in, and we still are. At the top of the stairs, before she turns the corner and is out of view, she glances back at us once more, and, finding our eyes on her still, she quickly runs around the corner, out of our sight.

We all breath a sigh of relief that she seems to have forgotten about the Egyptian stuff, but she now thinks that we are all weird and creepy. Fantastic.

I wonder if Fabian is going to say something like "nice going, Nina" like I would if I was in his situation. I _want_ to say it, but I think I have to be on Nina's side in this scenario, being the Osirian and all. Then again, he's Fabian, and I'm Eddie. We'd act pretty differently in this sort of thing.

"Nice going," he mutters under his breath. Well then. I stand corrected.

For a second, I think that she does not hear it, but then she sends him a deadly glare. In that moment, I bet Fabian is happy that her Paragon powers do not give her laser vision because then he would be melted into a puddle.

She takes in a deep breath, about to say something that I know little children should not hear, but she ends up thinking better of it and storms off in the same direction that Mara went.

Fabian and I watch her go and hear a door slam shut a few minutes later. I roll my eyes at his stupid comment. I mean, sure, I would have said it, too, but I'm not in hot water with Nina.

"Aren't you going to go up there?" I ask.

He shoots me a glare, his eyes narrowed. "Why don't _you_ go up there?" he retorts.

"Why would I-?"

"Because you and Nina are a thing!" he exclaims, exasperated.

"How thick is your skull, dude? Nina _just_ said that-"

"I don't care what she says. She's lying; I can feel it." There's plenty of despair in his voice, like he's already given up hope with a resignation that our imaginary love is too powerful to do anything about. I silently groan. _My God._

"Fabian, you are an idiot. You may be a hell of a lot smarter than I am in school, but you are absolutely clueless about girls." Fabian is about to protest against my remarks, but I stop him by continuing. "Nina is crazy about you, and she's only retaliating because you're being such a jerk over this stupid Osirian/Paragon thing. She's needed you, man, and you haven't been there. You've acted really stupid when she was waiting for someone to lean on. The only reason I've been near her so much is because you haven't been around! If you really want things to change, get your ass up there and ask for her forgiveness for you being a stubborn asshole who didn't want to be there for his girlfriend."

With that last word, I turn on my heel to go into the kitchen, but before I clear the doorway, Fabian calls out to me. I am about to object to his continuing the argument, but then I realize that his voice is apologetic and embarrassed.

"Eddie, um, I-I'm- Thanks," he stammers out.

I just nod and continue on into the kitchen, hoping that all of this drama crap would now end for good.

. . .

_Bzzz... Bzzz..._

I groan and open my eyes to see my stupid phone vibrating on the night stand, creating a ray of LED light that illuminates my groggy face as I pick it up to see who wold message me at such a late hour.

"1 New Message", it announces, and I see it's from Nina. In the corner of the screen, I notice the time. I nearly put down the phone right there and go back to bed, muttering profanities and curses at her on my way to sleep, but I know that I can't.

_I need to talk to you_, she says.

_At 3:30am?!_

Her reply is almost instant, and I can feel her aggravation at my response. _Yes. Meet me at the bottom of the stairs._

I sigh quietly. _Fine. Be there in 5._

A few short, groggy minutes later, I am at the bottom of the staircase, standing beside Nina and wondering why the hell I am here.

"Why'd you wake me up so early?" I complain.

She doesn't reply and shushes me, grabbing my arm and pulling us to the back of the house where there is a small office. Closing the door, she begins,

"Okay, so you're probably wondering why I asked you to come here-"

"We're not an assembly or anything, you can talk normally, if you want," I say.

Nina narrows her eyes at my snide remark and seems to be about to retaliate when she lets out a breath that she apparently was holding, calming herself down. "Anyway," she adds through gritted teeth. I wanna try something," she says cautiously.

Now it's my turn to narrow my eyes, though not out of irritation, more suspicion and curiosity, and a little bit of confusion. Just a little.

"Yeah?"

She bites her lip for a moment, thinking. I can feel the emotions churning within her: uncertainty, worry, a bit of fear, for some reason, and happiness.

"Kiss me," she tells me.

"Wh-What?!" I exclaims in shock.

She raises an eyebrow. "I just want to prove a point. If everyone says that we have feelings for each other, why not test it? Maybe we can see if the Osirion-Paragon thing is romantic or not."

I stare at her warily. Finally, I relent with a sigh. "Okay."

For a few moments we both stare at each other, and he can tell that I am unsure of how to do this.

"What, never kissed a girl before?" she ask wryly.

I shoot her a glare. "I just don't know how to really . . . well, do this. I mean-"

"Oh for God's sake, Eddie," she groans, rolling her eyes. She decides to take matters into her own hands. Nina grabs the front of my shirt and pull me towards her. A second later, our lips meet.

* * *

MWAHAHAHAHA. CLIFF-HANGER! Okay, YOU decide how this goes. Tell me if you want it to be positive or negative!

Sorry about the typos! NOW FIXED!

~Ary


	18. Chapter 18

Okay, I am so sorry about the long wait. -insert usual excuses here- Anyway. I haven't double-checked this yet; it's not edited. When I have more time, I'm gonna fix all the little errors, so excuse the terrible grammar/punctuation of this chapter.

Here's an fairly long chapter to make up for it. Btw, it's still in Eddie's POV!

* * *

Chapter 18:

It is short and quick, but really, really sweet. Better than I think either of us had hoped it would be. Her grip on my shirt loosens as she pulls away from me, our breaths still mingling in the still air of the office. My lips are left tingling, and the hairs on the back of my neck are upright, as if I have just received a shock.

Looking up at me through those long lashes of hers, those hazel eyes reflect my own curiosity at the response from that simple little peck. I see a long strand of curly hair fall into her line of vision, and I have a sudden urge to push it aside.

I see my hand move, somehow of its own accord, and stop it a few inches from her face. Her eyes follow my hand's movement, then dart back up to meet my eyes, awaiting my next move.

I brush away the stray lock of hair, pushing it behind her ear. My hand falls to the curve of her neck, where the silver chain of her necklace rests, and her pulse quickens under my fingertips, nervous anticipation running through her veins, like she knows exactly what I am going to do next, even though I barely realize what I am doing.

Bending my head, our lips meet once more. Her hands once again clutch my shirt, but I know that she not just initiating the kiss but is out of desire. This kiss is just as electrifying as the last.

Too soon, it ends because I pull away from her, a nagging question at the back of my mind. The smallest smirk is on her face as she averts her eyes from mine. I can see the faintest blush on her cheeks.

Searching her eyes, I ask, "Why?"

Nina sighs; she's been doing that a lot lately. "Fabian and I talked last night. He said he apologizes for being so jealous, etc. I didn't jump into his arms or anything at his apology, but we did kiss."

"And make up?" I joke, the smile on my face feeling forced instead of natural like it had been before. Why did that make me cringe when she told me?

She nods. "But, when we kissed-" There's that stupid cringing again. "-I didn't feel anything, like I had before."

"So, the problem is . . .?"

"The problem is . . . I never felt this way with Fabian like I do with you."

The sentence makes me want to smile, but I know that that's a problem, which is bad. I add, "Which is a problem." It isn't a question.

"Yeah. I still care a lot about Fabian, but _this_-" she nods between us "-makes everything so complicated."

Nina steps out of my arms, towards the closed door. I want to stop her, to keep her here and let her tell me everything that's on her mind. Mostly because if she's upset, it really messes with my head because of our connection, so we might as well talk it out so that I won't be feeling all these conflicting emotions when I try to fall asleep.

"Let's talk in the morning. Maybe some sleep will help," she murmurs. She twists the knob of the door, about to open it, to leave.

"What next?" I ask her.

Nina steps back towards me, leaving the door closed. Her eyes never leave mine as she whispers to me, "Sleep, Osirian." Like my body is following her orders, my eyes close, though I don't fall asleep. Soft lips press against mine for a second, but before I can take her by the waist and hold her there, she's gone.

I open my eyes to find her having disappeared with the door ajar. The first, faint rays of light from the sunrise are peeking through the blinds of the office, and I know that they symbolized the start of something new.

. . .

When I wake up the next morning, I'm irritable and tired because I tried to fall asleep after Nina and I met but couldn't stop thinking about it and that kiss. Miller, seriously, a girl kisses you and now you're wrapped around her finger?

But, I know she's not just "a girl"; she's someone that I have a connection with of thousands and thousands of years, the person that I encounter at every lifetime whether it be falling in love or a swift glance into a stranger's eyes. She's the Paragon, the Chosen One, my other half.

_Way to get mushy, Miller._

I throw off the blanket of my bed and see Fabian enter the room, whistling cheerily with his hair wet, most likely from a shower, a towel around his shoulders. In his hands is a bundle of clothes that smell strongly of laundry detergent.

"Morning, Eddie," Fabian greets with a smile. He drops the clothes into his suitcase and begins packing.

I blink at him, not sure why he's so happy. Then, I remember Nina's words from the previous night.

"Fabian and I talked last night. He said he apologizes for being so jealous, etc. I didn't jump into his arms or anything at his apology, but we did kiss."

"Can you grab my shoes from under the bed?" Fabian asks as he folds a shirt and lays it on top of a pile of other shirts.

"Sure," I say and bend under his bed to grab the gray tennis shoes. I knock my head against the bottom of the bed when I hear him resume whistling.

I swear under my breath, stopping his whistling for a moment while I rub the top of my head. I hand him his shoes and get a strong sense of expectation from him. He really wants me to ask him why he's so happy.

Insert sigh here. Fine. Just to stop his incessant whistling.

"So," I begin. "Uh, why're you so happy?"

Fabian mocks surprise at my question, pretending like he didn't know I was going to ask him, but elation floods through him that I care enough to ask.

_Jeez,_ I mentally groan.

"Oh, no reason," he says with a light chuckle.

I tear my mental hair out with my mental hands.

"Dude," I say, a deadpan expression on my face. "You do realize I can kinda tell what you're feeling, right?"

He sends me a sideways glance. "Okay, fine. But . . . do you know _why_ I feel this way, or do you just get an inkling?"

I already knew why, but I shake my head "no" at his question.

Relieved, he grins. "I took your advice and talked to Nina last night. We sorted through it, and I think we might get back together. I mean," he adds in a low whisper, "we ended up kissing, so I think that's a good sign."

I try to play it cool as a bolt of jealously slashes through me. "Yeah, it is. Well, awesome. I'm really glad." But, to me, my words sound hollow and detached, not excited and encouraging.

Fabian doesn't seem to notice as he finishes packing away the clothes he brought with him. His cheery whistling starts up again, and I seriously consider throwing whatever is within arms reach at him, which is most likely a pillow. But, that'd probably be a bad idea, so I get up and walk to the door, calling out, "I'm gonna brush my teeth and get some breakfast. Want anything?"

"No, thanks. It's ten AM." He laughs at the end, most likely at my tendency to sleep in a hell of a lot later than ten.

I ignore his laughing and head to the bathroom across the hall. After brushing my teeth, I splash cold water in my face to wake myself up. I look at myself in the mirror and wonder what's going to happen next with the Fabian/Nina/me triangle.

A few moments pass, and I decide to go out to the kitchen to grab some breakfast before starting to pack myself. And . . .

_Bam!_

"Hey, watch it!" I exclaim, falling on the ground.

"Right back at ya, weasel," a snide voice retorts.

I freeze. Raising my eyes, I meet the hard, emerald green of my ex-girlfriend icy glare. I help her up, but she shrugs me off and marches on, back up to her room. So many emotions course through her, creating a trail like a cape behind her as she walks. Hatred, sorrow, betrayal, hurt, a lot of hatred . . .

I can't bring myself to tell her anything, to ask her to just talk, before either of us leave for good, or at least until school starts again. I don't want to have two months of silence without talking to her, or anyone.

_You'll have Nina,_ a voice whispers from the back of my mind.

Speaking of which, where is she?

I reach out and try to feel her, since she's usually the one I can feel the most out of everyone. A sense of ease and relaxation emit from her, underlined with a faint worrying over someone discovering out late night meeting.

_Relax, Nina,_ I think to myself.

Calmness settles over the worry, but it's like a blanket covering something you'll get back to later. I know that she's not gonna keep that covered for long, but it'll just have to wait until we get a chance to talk.

My desire for breakfast gone, I head back to the room I share with Fabian to start my own packing.

He raises his head at my return to our room. "That was quick," he remarks.

"There was nothing good," I reply, pulling out my own suitcase out. I start stuffing the t-shirts strewn around my bed into my black suitcase.

"You want to fold those?" he asks, arching an eyebrow at my careless and messy packing.

"Nah."

He blinks at my short reply but continues to put his clothes away. And, for a while, we remain in silence, only interrupting it to ask the other for a shoe from one side or an iPod from the other, etc.

A sudden, loud clattering of wheels hitting each step of the staircase reaches our ears, and each of our heads turn to look up at the ceiling. Then, we exchange glances and go outside to see what all the noise is about.

Nina and Alfie are trudging down the stairs with a huge pink suitcase in hand, struggling to make it down. Immediately, Fabian and I help out and, once the suitcases are safely on the floor, see Amber calmly walking down the stairs with her small, pink purse, hardly lifting a finger, as usual.

"I don't remember you bringing two suitcases that weight the same as two small children, Amber," I tell her with a laugh.

"Well, I always buy things when I go on trips, which is why I always pack a bit lighter. A few pairs of sunglasses were left behind, but that's okay." She flips her hair over her shoulder. "Anyway. This isn't even that bad. You should see me at the beginning of term."

"Kind of afraid to," I mutter.

"It's terrible," Nina mouths to me. I stifle a smile.

"Now, Alfie, could you fetch me a cup of tea with two teaspoons of sugar, and a squeeze of honey?"

Alfie blinks at the specifics of the tea and nods slowly. Nina and I share a laugh but, seeing Fabian's look of confusion, I quickly avert my eyes and go back into our room to finish packing.

After what seems like forever, I'm finally done, and I hear a loud shattering. Wincing, I go back outside to see what's going on.

Fancy, white china lays in shards on the wooden floor, surrounded by a puddle of golden tea and a single, sopping wet tea bag. Alfie is standing above it, his mouth shaped into an 'o' with a look of disbelief and shock on his face.

Nina walks over from the kitchen, carrying a can of iced tea and scanning the back for ingredients.

"Amber, why don't you just have this; I mean, it only has fifteen grams of sugar-" she stops at the crack of the china under her Converse. Her eyes widen at the sight, and she lets out a sharp squeak.

"I-I tried to get Amber some tea before we leave, and, after I kept messing it up, I, um, slipped and dropped it," Alfie admits, looking absolutely guilty and feeling terrible about it.

I am surprised at his honesty. Usually, he would make up excuses and try to avoid being caught as the perpetrator, but I guess he knew that Nina could tell if he was lying?

Nina appears to be stunned at his honesty as well and seems to deflate a bit. "It's-It's fine," she relents. "It was just my mom's china and, well, y'know . . ." She trails off.

"I'm really sorry, Nina," Alfie says.

"Yeah, sorry, Nines. It was my fault for making him get the tea," Amber adds.

I blink at everyone looking apologetically at Nina. Did they do this to try and end the vacation on a high note or did they actually feel bad and want to apologize?

"Okay, well, sorry to break up the kumbaya circle here, but if everyone's done packing, I think we've got some planes to get to."

Everyone stares at me, all shocked at my sudden responsibleness. Slowly, everyone starts shuffling out of the room to get their stuff. I move over to the broken china and begin to pick up the shards.

"I've got that," Nina says, bending to pick up the little pieces that I missed.

"No, I'm fine. Can you grab something to wipe it up with?" I reply.

She nods, dropping the little pieces into my palm and brushing my fingertips with the back of her hand as she moves it away. Tingles shoot through my body at that small touch, and I continue to clean up the teacup to avoid showing the emotion on my face.

Nina comes back with a dishrag and meeting my eyes, sends me the ghost of a smile. I find myself holding back a smile at the silent exchange going on between us. I go to the kitchen to throw away the shards. As I toss it into the trash, one of the shards grazes the palm of my hand, leaving a faint but prominent mark that begins to bleed.

I swear at my luck and dash to the bathroom to find a Band-Aid. Digging through the drawers while holding my hand over the sink to avoid any blood spillage onto the floor, I can't find any Band-Aids at all, so I look in the medicine cabinet. Finally! I find a box and . . .

They're Hello Kitty Band-Aids. Really, universe? Do you just _love_ to embarrass me like this?

Contemplating my options and wear to go from here, I know that either I leave it to "air out" which, knowing my luck, would get me an infection, and I'd die. Or, I put on the stupid Band-Aid and die from mortification at my friends' teasing. Well, I'm gonna die anyway, so why not make it as painless as possible?

I wash my hands and apply one of the Band-Aids to my palm, going as slow as possible, dreading the possibility of returning to my group of friends because I know that I will never live this down.

I quickly run back to my room to grab my suitcase and meet everyone outside who is waiting for their cabs. Apparently, I have crappy luck but good timing because just as I walk out of the house the cabs arrive. I see Nina behind me, locking the front door and everyone else milling around out on the lawn.

Mara and Jerome seem to have become the most annoying couple of them all, while Amber and Alfie seem to have taken the place of the old married couple who we all know still care about each other, despite the massive bickering that always ensues when they enter a room. Patricia is sulking by the sidewalk, glaring at her phone and everything that crosses her path. I debate on going over there to talk it out with her, maybe to smooth out the edges of our breakup so that we can at least be friends, but then I see her glare at her phone, as if she is accusing it of all of the problems that have happened these last few weeks - and I'm honestly surprised that it hasn't melted from her laser vision - and I decide against it. Mick and Joy are talking and look sad? Uh, what happened with them?

And then, there is Fabian talking to Nina who's laughing with him, being the perfect girlfriend once more. She meets my eyes once, the smile still there, but I know that this one is meant for me, personally.

Then, a cab honks at us, and, after quick and occasionally teary goodbyes, the two couples that have actually survived this summer hurry into it, leaving five of us. Amber lowers the window and pokes her head out with a cheery wave, a smile shining through her tears. Alfie grins from behind him, calling out,

"Bye, guys! Don't be abducted by aliens without me!"

"Alfie, we're going to see them when we get to the airport. We won't have to say goodbye until we reach England." Mara's voice comes from within the cab, exasperated.

"Still, Mara, that is a while away. Goodness knows that they won't make their flight and that this really is goodbye until next term," Jerome says coolly.

Apparently, someone hits him because a low "ouch" comes from within. It makes me crack a smile at Mara always keeping him in line.

Only a few feet away, we wave goodbye as the cab drives off, Amber never stopping until they turn a corner a few blocks down the road.

Soon, I see another cab coming down the road, meant for the last five of us. We pile into the cab, with Fabian stuck between me and Nina, making all three of us uncomfortable from the tight quarters, but, thankfully, it is a short ride to the airport, and we are able to get out of our claustrophobic conditions.

The rest of our time in the airport passes by in a blur, but one thing stands out in my memory as I stare out the window of the airplane as we begin our ascent into the air. Nina's goodbye.

Fabian is already in the middle of security, and Nina tells him to go on with out her, that she just wanted to have a word in private with me. Fabian, that uncertain look and coiling ball of fear comes back, but there's also the thin veil of trust back over those feelings, and it fights back enough that he nods and goes on, but not before giving her a quick kiss and a gentle squeeze of her hand.

Making sure that he is gone, Nina turns to me, looking down at her shoes.

"Eddie, I- We just figured out this, and- I mean, we- us-" She attempts to stop her babbling words and takes a deep breath, resuming her speaking, "I know it was short, but please don't think it's just a one-time thing-"

I notice she's playing with her fingers, crossing them and twiddling them, until I finally pick up one and pull her to the side, into an alcove leading to storage facilities or a bathroom or something. Her hand feels warm in mind, a comforting touch, like sitting beside a fire during a night of bad weather, or eating a warm, gooey chocolate chip cookie after a bad day.

I lace my fingers with hers, telling her, "Nina, I get it. You can stop babbling."

"Yeah, I know- I'm so bad with goodbyes. Always have been, I suppose. I just want to make sure that- that you know I don't just want a-a summer romance. I really do care about you, and-"

I stop her seemingly never-ending tirade with a long, fantastic kiss, and her hands reach up to curl in my hair while mine fall to her waist, pulling her closer to me.

Soon, we break apart, and Nina raises her eyes to meet mine. Embarrassment floods her features, a sheepish grin crossing her lips.

"I really need to work on controlling my talking, huh?"

"Yeah. Wasn't very tact of you," I say dryly.

"Uh, I don't think that's how it's supposed to be used," she says slyly.

"Yes, it is!" I argue.

"No, it's not."

"Yes."

"No!"

"Nina, I can go on like this for hours, but I think I have a flight to catch."

A quick glance at the clock, and she replies, "You do realize that you have an hour until boarding."

"Someone might get suspicious."

"Let them make their theories."

She kisses me again, a big smile on her face, and gently pushes me away. I keep hold of her hand, the other on the handle of my suitcase. I give a longing look. In reply, she laughs at my puppy-dog face and repeats, "Go. I'll talk to you later."

I just barely let go of her fingers when I cast another longing look at her. Nina giggles, something I've only ever heard her do with Fabian, and pulls me towards her once more for one last, spellbinding kiss. Before we move not even a foot away from each other, she whispers,

"Goodbye, Osirian."

"My dear Paragon, you make this sound like it will be forever," I joke. But the pain I feel from her is reflected in my own heart.

_Again. Way to get mushy, Miller._

"I know it's not. But it feels like it." Her hazel eyes remind me of an innocent fawn, exuding an air that makes you want to take care of and protect her. But those eyes of hers also burn with determination and strength, and I know that, even though I'm her protector, she can handle herself even in the worst situations.

"We won't be separated for long," I promise, a smile coming easily to my lips. "I swear."

Comfort fills her, and she beams at me. About to pull her into a last hug, she pushes me away.

"No, no," she says with a laugh, "I know that if I hug you now, I'll never let you go. Go, Eddie."

I finally leave the vicinity of the alcove and say, "Bye, Nina."

A melancholy smile on her face, she says, "Bye, Eddie."

* * *

Please review!

Thank you! (:

~Ary


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